


The Rogue Templar

by WendelinTheWriter



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:39:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 48,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3564938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WendelinTheWriter/pseuds/WendelinTheWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen Rutherford, in his youth, wanted no more than to serve the Templar Order and to attend to the will of the Maker. The time passed, and those tasks revealed themselves to be much more complex than what he thought at first. From a not so faithful Templar following his Knight-Commander's orders, to the Rogue behind the end of the Mage Rebellion in Kirkwall, to the Right Hand of the Inquisition, Cullen had to learn the hard way that righteous and good actions were not easily done.</p><p>AU in which Cullen stirs shit up, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rumors and Old Stories

**Author's Note:**

> For the moment, I'm going to adapt only the initial events of the Inquisition to this version of the Dragon Age universe I came up with. Dragon Age Origins and Dragon Age 2 shall be retold, and I'm working my way through finishing Inquisition so I can do it the whole way.
> 
> This is a very short prologue.

“Knight-Commander Cullen? Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast wishes to speak to you. She is already here, and requests an emergency meeting.”

Cullen put down his paperwork and set it aside, sighing to the young Templar standing by the door.

“Send her in. I was wondering when someone from the Chantry was going to show up at my doorstep.”

The Circle of Magi dissolved. A full-on war betweenmages and Templars across all Thedas; except, of course, in Kirkwall. He had a nice stack of paperwork to fill now that plenty of mages and their families poured in the docks, looking for a safe place.

The Seeker walked inside a couple of moments later, a formidable looking woman, indeed, with sharp eyes and a serious posture, impenetrable in her polished armor, decorated with the sign of a flaming eye. 

“Knight-Commander.”she greeted him, formally. 

“Have a seat, Seeker. What do you wish from me?”

She sat down on a visitor’s chair, and leaned back in a semi-relaxed manner.

“I need you.” she said, her face still as a statue.

“That is… Quite the request you are making.” Cullen replied, with a short-lived laugh.

“Thedas is submerged in chaos and war. The Chantry no longer has the power to contain the madness from spreading. You are aware of it, I am certain.”

“I’ve heard stories.”

“You should be glad they are merely tales within Kirkwall. I’ll be honest about my intentions. As a Templar, you must have some knowledge about the history of the Order; you must know of the Inquisition.”

“Of course I do. What about it?” Cullen replied.

“Thedas needs an Inquisitor, Knight-Commander. You are my first choice.”

Cullen laughed at the face of the Seeker, who shifted her position, studying him with a stern gaze.

“I don’t see what is so funny. You have managed to keep the Circle of Magi together in Kirkwall, while Anders’ actions started a war everywhere else. Everywhere else but here, the beginning of everything. Thanks to you.”

“I was not expecting someone from the Chantry to come to me and throw an opportunity like this one on my lap, considering that, for three years, the Chantry frowned upon my work as Knight-Commander.” Cullen said. “Listen, Seeker, I’ll help you as much as possible, but I won’t be your Inquisitor. I want peace, and now that I have it, I don’t wish it to leave it.”

In all honesty, the Knight-Commander could barely keep up with the duties of his role. Being an Inquisitor was out of question, especially if he had no one trustworthy enough to be in charge of Kirkwall. Things were going well under his command, and close locations were following the example. He hoped to take part in the war, indeed, but in more productive ways.

“If that’s the case, then I hope you don’t mind answering me a few questions. The Hero of Ferelden. The Champion of Kirkwall. You’ve fought the Blight beside Solona Amell and ended the Mage rebellion here with the help of Garrett Hawke. They both have disappeared into the world, and I want to bring them back. They are powerful figures across Thedas; I need their voices to join the Inquisition. Where are they?”

“I don’t know.” Cullen said.

The Seeker stood up, suddenly, and leaned forward on the desk, resting her palms on it in a threatening manner.

“Bullshit!” she spat out. “You know both of them personally. How can you not know where they are?”

Cullen was not intimidated, and replied in a firm tone: “Trust me, if I knew where they are, I’d be there faster than you, Seeker. I’ve been looking myself. I’ll try to help anyway I can, though the only help I can provide right now is sharing old stories. I doubt they’ll be of much use.”

Seeker Pentaghast straightened herself and sat down again.

“Getting facts, however, would greatly help me. I’ve heard nothing but rumors, enhanced stories on their past and present. If I gather more information, not just rumors, perhaps I could locate them.”

“It is a very long story.”

“I’m eager to hear it from you, Knight-Commander. Every single detail.”

Cullen adjusted himself better in his chair, hands now comfortably placed on his lap, fingers still entwined.

“You asked for it. I hope you are not too modest.”


	2. The Beginning of Everything

“And what am I to do with you?”

“You see, Commander, the problem of jailing mages since birth is that you run out of options when situations such as these come up.”

The time seemed to stop around the scene. An escaped blood mage, a betrayed Chantry Initiate and… Solona Amell. Cullen, a young Templar, unwillingly held his breath, fretting Solona’s destiny more than the mage herself did. 

No one was expecting her to be part of a plan to escape the Tower. Solona had passed her Harrowing several hours before, and Cullen had watched her with his sword drawn. It had been his duty to eliminate the abomination, should she become one. Gladly, he didn’t have to live with the guilt of slaying her; Solona made through the rite, unscathed. 

Just three hours before the attempted escape, Cullen had approached her. He rehearsed his line for quite some time, hoping not to make a fool of himself, which he certainly did:

“H-hello. I… I’m glad that you are well.” Cullen told Solona, when she walked past him in one of the many halls of the Tower. “I was at your Harrowing. The Commander told me to lay the killing blow if anything happened. Nothing personal, I swear, I’m just glad you—“

She narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, and he choked on his own words. The Harrowing was a process that required a large quantity of lyrium. It was likely that Solona didn’t remember a thing, and even if she did, introducing himself as her possible killer was not the best idea. 

Cullen felt his ears going red, as his tongue was tied in a knot, and Solona still stared at him.

“Oh.” she said, finally, her expression much softer. “Cullen, aren’t you? Hello.”

And such was Solona. 

At first, Cullen only stole a glance or two. She always had been a pretty girl, with chin-length black hair that nicely framed her sharp features, eyes that carried the fire of wit and a pair of soft, pink lips that smiled with charm. 

As Solona grew, she became more than just pretty; Cullen felt ravished, stripped of his own self-control in her presence, as he started to overhear what she talked with other people, and took notice of her wisdom, her well-humored warmth.

“I’ve heard of failed Harrowings. And I’m… Glad it didn’t happen to you.”

"Is that so? I thought you’d have more faith in my skills.” she replied.

“Oh, no! I didn’t mean to say that I expected you to do poorly, not at all, I…” Cullen finally gathered the courage to look straight to her face, and she was smirking. “…You’re joking.”

Her smirk grew into a full grin, and Cullen melted into a puddle of scrambled thoughts and untamed desire. If he could just reach out and kiss that mouth of hers…

"Yes. Sorry. In all seriousness, though, I’m glad that you are glad. Sometimes I forget Templars are actually supposed to care for the safety of mages…” Solona made a small pause. “You know what, Cullen? I’ll just stop distracting you, now. I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

“You are not distracting!” he retorted. After realizing the fool he was being, his voice withered away: “I mean… You are, but… You are not…”

Solona’s olive skin acquired a red undertone, and it did not escape Cullen that she bit the inside of her cheek.

“Well, I could always… Show up when you are less busy staring at the walls. I have to go, anyway. Need to talk to the First Enchanter. So… Maybe later?” she inquired carefully. 

“You can come talk to me anytime you like.”

Cullen was glad he never spoke to her before her Harrowing, otherwise his infatuation with her would be painfully obvious. Considering that the Commander trusted him with one of the hardest tasks of a Harrowing, when Solona was the one going through the rite… He hid his feelings well, up until that point.

But after they spoke to each other, and she was every bit as endearing as he imagined…

Their conversation replayed in his head, again and again, while he went through the motions of the rest of his day. His duties were interrupted when the Commander sent word for him to guard the Basement’s door, with urgency. Besides the Commander and a guard of five Templars, the First Enchanter was also there, as well as the Warden that was visiting the Tower.

“What’s happening?” Cullen mouthed to a fellow Templar beside him.

“You’ll have to see for yourself.” was the silent response he got.

Only a couple of minutes passed, and then the door burst open, sending enough dust in the air to blind Cullen. He didn’t have much time to process the fact Solona was involved with the attempted escape: the other mage attacked everyone in the room with blood magic. Cullen was knocked out and only came to his senses when the blood mage was long gone, and in the room, the Commander talked to – or rather screamed at -- Solona.

“You are lucky I can’t make you Tranquil!” the Commander snarled.

“Well, yes, considering I stayed. I didn’t know Jowan was a blood mage!”

“How does that make a difference?!”

“Oh, you and I both know it makes plenty.”

Solona argued with the Commander looking him in the eyes, her chin kept up high. Not even in Cullen’s wildest dreams, he’d speak to Greagoir in such way. And not even in his wildest dreams, he would guess she would try to escape. It didn’t seem to be in her plans when they spoke to each other… 

Or maybe she was just lying. If that was what she wanted all along, why stay?

Nothing made any sense.

“If you allow me…” the Grey Warden interrupted. “I am not only looking for mages to join the King’s Army. The Grey Wardens are also looking for recruits and we are talking about a very skilled mage that could greatly help Ferelden to fight against the Blight. She will be under my responsibility.”

“She is not to be trusted! She has no business being in any place without strict Templar supervision, Warden!” 

“Knight-Commander, if that is what Duncan wishes, you have no more say in the matter.” said the First Enchanter, not truly hiding his contentment.

“Commander, rest assured I do not wish to make any enemies today. I’ll gladly welcome a Templar into our ranks for supervision, as long as he does not interfere with Wardens’ matters.” The Warden named Duncan suggested. 

Greagoir sighed in defeat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Cullen tightened his grip on the sword he was holding; Solona deserved to be punished, no doubt, but taking her away to face lethal danger seemed too much.

Cullen found himself unable to be angry at her, or even think less of her for it. Her motives seemed genuine, however unreadable they were at that moment.

“I guess that will have to do. Cullen! Be ready to pack up and leave tomorrow. You’ll be watching Amell until I say otherwise.”

“E-excuse me… What?” Cullen mumbled, feeling faint.

“You heard me well. This mage cannot stay unsupervised. Until I deem her fit for being out of the Tower on her own, you’ll be with her.”  
Solona and Cullen exchanged a short look: she was as surprised as he was, but Cullen had his position to maintain, and recovered from the shock a moment later.

“Yes, Commander.” he replied. 

It was not unreasonable, not at all. The Grey Wardens were not Templars. Cullen realized he knew Solona very little, so in the case she still wanted to run away, she could, easily so, unless there were Templars watching her, but sending two or three Templars away for undefined time just for a single mage was impractical. 

Watching her daily, in a personal basis, would drive Cullen mad. 

He had to endure. It was her punishment, and the Commander placed his utmost trust in him. It would not be easy, but fulfilling the Maker’s will was never easy.

OoOoO

When I pictured the next time we’d talk, I never truly imagined it would be like this.” Solona said, sitting on the edge of the docks and dipping her toes in the water.  
The boat from the docks to the Tower only handled so much weight, and Duncan stayed back with the rest of the supplies to come in a second trip. Meanwhile, they waited by the docks. It was dawn, and the water glittered under the few rays of sunlight coming through. 

Cullen and Solona didn’t exchange a word since the talk before the escape, and he thought it was better that way. The chance of him losing his weak grasp on himself and his feelings was smaller. 

“Liar.” Cullen said, despite his common sense telling to not engage her. 

“What? You don’t think I can orchestrate a plan of escape within three hours? You sure underestimate me, Cullen.” She let out a small sigh before continuing: “Maker, I hate this. I… I didn’t know Jowan was a blood mage! If I knew…”

“If he wasn’t, you’d run away with him and the Chantry Initiate.”

“Well, yes, of course.”

Hearing those words from her mouth didn’t quite cause the reaction Cullen expected of himself. He should be angry, disgusted, even… But he couldn’t, because, in his heart, he knew Solona was not a bad person. Instead, there was curiosity. What was her thought process?

“So, in the end, what you hate is that you got caught.” he prompted.

“What I hate is that everyone thinks trying to escape the Circle is an abominable crime. I disagree that wishing for a normal life is a crime.”

“Mages cannot have normal lives, not when they can become blood mages and fall prey to demons lurking in the Fade.” Cullen argued, crossing his arms in front of his chest. It was easier to speak clearly while Solona was out of his view: he was standing behind her, staring at the boat coming closer. Her face was a terrible distraction. 

“That is the problem, though.” Solona said. “You punish us for a crime we didn’t even commit; you take away everything that makes us human, and then wonder why we become monsters. Ever heard of a self-fulfilled prophecy? Say, you are a Templar.”

“What of it?”

“Templars, at first, don’t have an easy life either. You cannot go anywhere you like, there’s the training, and the vigil, and plenty of other restrictions. It is not a normal life. Is it easy?”

Cullen had to say no, though he did it in a barely audible mumble.

“But you chose it. You volunteered yourself to it. Trust me when I say I didn’t volunteer to be taken away from my family as a child. It is not fair. Now, I know we are not Elven. There is no way we can possibly keep track of all mages in Thedas without the Order and the Circle, but the way the Order is going about it is entirely wrong.”  


Solona stood up, and slowly turned around to face Cullen.

“Those who bring harm without provocation to the least of His children are hated and accursed by the Maker, so says the Chant of Light. I don’t know which definition of harm the Order is using, but it is certainly not my own.” 

There was a long moment of silence; Cullen couldn’t bring himself to put a single sentence together. Solona was completely right. How many times Cullen saw Templars abusing innocent mages, and had to look the other way? How many times he had to separate children from their mothers? 

How many times any of it felt right?

“I understand.” he said. 

“You… You do?” Solona whispered.

“There is still time to run away. I’ll cover for you. Maker, I’d go with you.”

“I won’t. I can’t.”

He tried to keep his expression cool, as the Templar guiding the boat, bringing Duncan to the docks, could see his face, by then. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to spend my life hiding, Cullen, and… As a Warden… I won’t have to be afraid of the Order anymore. I want to be a mage and be proud of it.” 

Cullen kept standing tall, but inside he crumbled. For a moment, there was a sliver of hope they could get away together. He, however, had to agree with Solona: running away from the problems was not a solution, and hiding forever was no way to live. 

It wouldn’t feel right, either. It would feel like looking the other way. 

OoOoO

“Interesting.” The Seeker said, both of her eyebrows arched up in mild amusement. “Everything you’ve done, you did just because of a woman…?”

“You take me for an idiot.” Cullen observed. 

“I take you for a romantic.”

“I am certain that the Maker wanted our paths to cross. She shaped my views, Seeker, but we weren’t meant to be together. I knew this back then, and I am certain of it now. You’ll learn our involvement was short and troublesome.”


	3. Magic of The Wilds

After several days of walking, and walking, and walking, Duncan, Solona and Cullen finally made it to Ostagar. Cullen was exhausted, and he was glad for it, too. The tiredness didn’t let him think too much, and that would make keeping his distance from Solona easier. Cullen did it not because he wanted to, but because there were appearances to maintain.

As far as he knew, Duncan was unaware of the conversation Solona and he had at the docks. It was for the best that it never came to his attention. Even though Cullen and Solona didn’t have a proper discussion about it, it seemed she felt the same way.

Unexpectedly, the King was at the entrance of the ruins to greet them.

“I’m glad you made it on time, Duncan.” King Cailan said. “It would be terrible to be at the front battle without you on my side to shed blood together.”

“It’s good that I have made it before the horde, your Majesty.”

The King landed his eyes on Solona, and opened his arms to her: “And I’ve heard of a new recruit. I take it this is she. Might I know your name?”

“I’m Solona, your Majesty.”

“And this Templar would be…?”

“Cullen, your Highness. I’ve been sent to supervise the new Warden recruit.” Cullen said. Sounding serious and respectful was an admirable effort, at that point. He would kill for a proper bath and a hot meal.

“Fair enough. Heard she got herself into the trouble. The feisty ones are always better, though. Anyhow, Duncan, I should get going to find Loghain before he sends out a search party for me. I want you to be at the strategy reunion, later. I’ll send word.”

Solona crossed her arms at the King’s thin veiled joke, unamused, though if she had a comeback for it – which she probably did – she held it back.

Duncan, on the other hand, didn’t show any reaction and simply nodded.

“Sure, your majesty.”

Once the King left, Solona said: “I knew he was young, but somehow I thought he’d have a grey beard. And less of a smart mouth.”

Duncan gave away his agreement with her opinion by the means of a soft laugh, but he quickly returned to his composed self. Cullen wondered how come he did it. Perhaps he could learn a thing or two with Duncan.

“You should prepare for your Joining and seek out a Warden that goes by the name of Alistair as soon as you are ready. I’ll be scouting the Wilds for the time being.” he told Solona.

“My Joining?”

“It is the rite every recruit must go through to officially become a Warden. Usually, we give recruits more time to prepare, but considering the upcoming battle, it’s best for you to go through your Joining before it. Alistair will tell you more about the Wardens and advise you.”

“Alright. I’ll do that.” Solona agreed and went ahead to where the camps were settled in the ruins.

They were not in livable conditions, but apparently still could face a horde of darkspawn, or so Cullen fervently hoped. He followed Solona, a few steps behind her, though she slowed down so they were walking side by side.

“I believe a bath and a hot meal are in order for both of us before looking for Alistair.” he said, trying his best not to look at her, now that they were practically alone; the guards didn’t know them, or what they were up to. “You can go the mage’s camp and I’ll meet you there when I’m ready.”

“I didn’t have the chance to say how sweet you were the day I tried to escape, Cullen. I should thank you.”

“I... You’re welcome, I suppose.” he replied, still looking ahead, though he could tell she was smiling. “I didn’t really do anything.”

“You’ve restored my faith in the Maker. I’m glad Commander Greagoir picked you.”

Cullen looked around, everywhere but her face. Not only he feared he’d do something stupid like pull her for a kiss, as well as he didn’t want to let her know just how much he was flattered by her words. It was ridiculous how easily Solona could set him ablaze.

Once they reached the mage’s camp, she went away, though her presence still intoxicated his thoughts.

He left for the Templar’s tents not far away, and had a proper cold bath, scrubbing himself until his skin was pink and sore. The relief did not last for long, because as soon as he was clean and fed, Cullen had to meet Solona by the mage’s camp, and help her look for Alistair. 

The two Templars guarding the entrance to the camp stood by her, unmoved. Cullen wondered if they, too, felt the scent of roses Solona exhaled after her bath, or if it was just him who couldn’t get a strong enough grip on himself.

“I think I saw Alistair walking past. He went that way.” Solona made a gesture with her head to indicate the direction. “Shall we?”

Cullen nodded and they headed after the Warden. He expected someone older and wise like Duncan, instead Solona found a young man – if he could be considered a man – with carefully styled blonde hair, in the company of a mage.

“I’m just saying that the Revered Mother—“ the one who should be Alistair said.

“I am going to see her! Just stop bothering me!” the very angered mage interrupted him and stormed off.

“Ah, I love how the Blight brings everyone together.” Alistair sighed with pretend joy, speaking to Solona. “Wait… You are a mage, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?” Solona replied without missing a beat. “Was it the staff, the Circle robes, or the Templar following me with a big sword?”

Only then Alistair seemed to have registered Cullen standing by Solona.

“I see you brought a friend with you.” he said. “Oh. I know who you are. You are Duncan’s new recruit! How could I have missed it? A young mage with a Templar following her with a big sword, those were precisely Duncan’s words about you. You are Solona and your friend must be Cullen.”

“I take it you are Alistair.” Solona replied. “Duncan asked me to talk to you.”

“Surely. You know, I used to be a Templar, once. The Revered Mother is using me to piss off the mages, and I hope Cullen is the next one assigned to the task. Battling against the darkspawn while being a toad will not be easy.”

“My only task is to supervise Solona.” Cullen replied, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. It was a usual gesture, not meant to be threatening, but apparently that was how it came across to Alistair.

“Sounds nice, I guess… Being followed by a Templar… All the time… While being a mage…”

Solona waved Alistair’s worries off.

“The Knight-Commander sent me to piss me and Duncan off but he could have picked someone worse. Now, I’ve heard you have a couple of things to explain to me about the Joining?”

Cullen listened in attentively, while looking around the camp. It was not his conversation to participate in, though the Grey Wardens picked his interest.

Alistair didn’t really seem like the kind of person who would manage to go through the Templar training and take the vows. He mustn’t have taken them, or else leaving the Order would be nearly impossible: if Cullen ever wanted to leave, the lyrium – or lack thereof -- would prove itself to be a major problem in deserting the Order. He had to admit he did not consider it when proposing to escape with Solona.

So Ferelden was in the hands of an army who took in men too weak to be Templars, and runaway mages. Not very reassuring, though Cullen could at the very least attest Solona’s skills.

“There is not much to talk about. It’s a rite you need to pass in order to become a Warden, not much unlike the Harrowing you went through recently. I’m afraid I can’t reveal much else, and not just because your Templar friend is listening to us.” Alistair explained. “At any rate, I could explain more about the Wardens, while the other recruits prepare for the task that you’ll have to complete before the Joining. I’m not sure if it makes any better, but I will accompany you during the task. Your friend can come too, although he can’t interfere with any business we might get down to.”

“Actually, I’m rather interested in knowing how you became a Grey Warden. You didn’t take your Templar vows, didn’t you?” Solona inquired.

“You are correct. I grew up in the Chantry so it was more than natural that I took the Templar training, but I wasn’t made to be Templar. I couldn’t take the vows. I was growing too old to still be in training, when Duncan showed up asking for recruits. I nearly begged him to take me, though the Revered Mother wouldn’t let me go, so Duncan conscripted me. I’ve been a Warden for six months now, never looked back…” Alistair drew a deep, resigned breath. “Duncan wasn’t so clear about your story, though, do you mind telling me?”

Solona shrugged, and explained her story with casual distance:

“I helped a blood mage escape. I didn’t know he was a blood mage, but the deal was done. Duncan practically conscripted me too, although he didn’t say the word… Which is why my friend Cullen here is making sure I don’t run away from the Wardens, until further notice.”

“That certainly makes sense. If I knew there was slim chance of escorting female mages around like this, I might as well have taken my vows. Not the chastity ones.”

Cullen immediately shot him a glare.

Alistair had no idea on how it felt like, knowing something could have happened between them in another world, in another time, if they weren’t Templar and mage. If only he knew just how much torturous it had been to be around Solona and yet not be able to touch or even speak properly to her…

“Uh, I’ll just… Stop talking.” he mumbled. “The other recruits should be with Duncan already. We have to get going.”

“Lead the way.” Solona told him.

OoOoO

“Solona, this is no joke! Watch out for your back!” Cullen lashed out at her, all the while twisting a sword on a darkspawn’s stomach. He then finished it by digging the tip of his blade into the throat of the Hurlock.

“Someone is really working out some issues, here.” Alistair observed in a low tone, to Solona’s ear.

The spots in Cullen’s face that were not covered by darkspawn blood were far and few. He was instructed not to draw his sword unless it was necessary, but once they were in the Wilds, necessary became quite often, at least for him.

Solona turned out to be a skilled mage in combat, though Cullen couldn’t stand her style. She let the darkspawn get too close, looking for hitting them with a lethal spell; he jumped in and eliminated threats, only to have her claim she would deal with it once it got close enough.

“Cullen, I can fend for myself.” she said.

“Letting them almost get to you is not what I call fending for yourself. They could give you the Blight.” Cullen replied.

The wilds were not dense, though the still air was suffocating. The Templar armor wore him down, and the real understanding that Solona would be facing mortal danger in a constant basis from then on felt like an extra weight on his shoulders. The mud stopped him from walking a normal pace. Everything in the Wilds felt overwhelming, effortful.

He was not in his best mood. Acknowledging this, he went on, in a softer manner: “Please, be more careful.”

Solona sighed.

“I’ll try. Keep your sword to yourself, though. I can do this.”

Cullen put his sword back to his belt, aware that both Alistair and the recruits observed him with suspicion, after the bloody display of unusual concern for Solona. How could he measure his words when there were darkspawn an arm away from her, and the mud clung to his feet, and he felt like melting under the armor?

He, too, had to learn how to be more careful.

Solona did take his advice, and kept the darkspawn more at bay. Cullen’s arm would still sometimes twitch and reach for his sword, though he managed to make to the ruins where Alistair was supposed to find ancient Warden’s documents without drawing his trusty blade.

“We just need to find those pesky treaties and we’ll be back to somewhere less muddy.” Alistair said.

“And where those documents in a box?” Cullen questioned. Duncan was not very clear about where the treaties were, or at least not in front of the recruits.

“Yes, with a magic seal on it. Should be intact.” The Warden replied, looking around in the opposite direction of the box.

Solona, however, followed Cullen’s gaze, and asked: “And what if they have been taken?”

“Nonsense. Who would want old, dusty papers?”

Cullen suddenly felt the presence of a mage. Another one, that wasn’t Solona. It was like a strong hunch, the feeling someone was there, when there wasn’t anyone, not yet.

A moment after, a woman stepped in the ambient of the ruins they occupied.

“Dusty, old papers, indeed. It is curious that you seem to be looking for it, in ruins none have touched for such a long time.”

The woman was partially leather-clad, though her torso was only covered by a carefully draped piece of burgundy cloth that offended Cullen’s modesty. Her eyes were a particular shade of yellow, and were empty if not for a sliver of mischief. The woman seemed like an animal, curiously watching a new kind of prey.

Cullen drew his sword on instinct.

“And why, I ask, do you bring a Templar pet with you?” the woman went on.

Solona nudged Cullen on the elbow, a request for him to lower his sword, and stepped forward, unafraid. Or, at the very least, looking like she had nothing to fear. She was taller than most women, and as tall as many men. Sometimes it was possible for Solona to appear intimidating.

“We need those papers. Those were important Warden treaties. Do you know who took them?”

“Wardens…? I see. It does explain why you went venturing into my Wilds when there are so many darkspawn roaming about.”

“Your Wilds? How are these your Wilds?” Alistair retorted.

“She’s the Witch of the Wilds!!” Daveth, one of the two other recruits exclaimed. “She has the papers!”

Alistair also drew his sword: “Where are they, you lying… Half-naked… Thief!”

“I do know where they are, though ‘tis was not I who took them. My mother did, and she might be willing to return them.”

“Why would she do that?” Cullen questioned, sensing a trap.

“An empty drawer is always necessary. Our hut does not have many.”

“Alright.” Solona agreed, in the name of all of them. “But if you try anything, I’ll definitely set my Templar on you. Otherwise, he’ll keep to himself. And so will the Wardens.”

Cullen alone wouldn’t be of much against a witch, two possibly, in a forest full of darkspawn. If it was a trap, it would end badly, and so he argued: “Who put you in charge? There is only one true Warden here.”

It better to come off as strong-headed than to admit to the witch that he wasn’t powerful enough to contain her if needed be. Alistair had Templar training but was no Templar, while Cullen had several years of experience, plus the training, on his belt. The circumstances, however, were not ideal, even for him.

He also discovered he did not like being referred to as pet.

“We need the treaties.” Alistair said in a strangled tone.

Cullen could not ever imagine his death would come as walking into a trap so willingly. But he was there only to watch Solona, and if she walked right into an ambush for the sake of a few papers, he had to be at her heels.

“We have a deal, then. My name’s Solona.” She said to the witch. “Yours?”

“Morrigan. Follow me, if you will.”

It was obvious that Morrigan took a purposefully misleading path towards whatever her destiny was; though it turned to be, in fact, a small wooden hut, where an old woman waited them by the porch.

She seemed harmless, however her magic poured out of her even if she wasn’t casting any spell. Cullen tried to keep himself together, for Solona’s sake. If this woman ever decided to attack them…

“I didn’t know you had this many friends, Morrigan. And a Templar…? Curious choice, indeed.” the woman chuckled.

“Mother, they are here for the treaties you’ve been keeping.”

“The treaties you stole.” Alistair corrected Morrigan.

If Cullen could slap Alistair’s face, he would. Offending any of them could be fatal. Instead, he just grimaced, trying to keep still.

“The magic seal wore off, dumb child!” Morrigan’s mother chided. “I’ve been keeping them in case you Wardens came looking. It might not be obvious to you, but the Wilds are part of Ferelden. If the Blight comes, this hut will not outstand it. Neither will I. It is of my interest to help the Grey Wardens.”

“That’s very reasonable, thank you. I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but we just want our treaties and we’ll be on our way.” Solona said, seeming a bit on edge.

“Of course.”

It went much better than what Cullen expected. Morrigan led them back to the camp, no harm done, and with the treaties in hand, which put him in a better mood. Good enough for him to want to make up for being a brute during the whole process. 

As soon as the gates closed behind their backs, Cullen said: “Solona, I need to talk to you in private.”

She raised an eyebrow to him, though she willingly followed his steps to a secluded part of the camp.

“Maker’s breath, for a moment there, I thought we wouldn’t leave the Wilds with life!” he admitted. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you, earlier. I just wanted you to be careful and… I don’t want you to go through your Joining thinking I’m angry at you.”

“Well, let us hope you won’t yell at me every time I am in mortal danger. It will be routine for me from now on.” Solona replied.

She didn’t sound very reassured, though at least didn’t seem to be hurt, either.

“Fair enough. I’ll control my tongue.”

“And here was I thinking you couldn’t get much sweeter.” Solona said, stepping closer, looking straight into his eyes.

They were hidden by tall bushes and a couple of trees, the sounds of the camp close and distant, at the same time. Cullen felt like he was somewhere else. Somewhere else nice, where he could talk freely to Solona.

And kiss her as he wished, too.

His thoughts emptied as he gently held her by the waist and gave a delicate kiss on the lips. Through his armor, Cullen couldn’t feel Solona’s heat: there was only the light pressure of her hands against his breastplate, and they slid up to cup his face as her tongue made its way to his mouth.

He was caught off guard by the demanding way she returned the kiss, and lost the little control he had left, pinning Solona against the trunk of one of the trees granting them privacy. Cullen’s hands went to caress the small of her back, and he broke the kiss to suckle her neck, which was still clean, much unlike his own.

Solona ran her fingers through his hair, throwing her head sideways to facilitate Cullen’s work.

“Cullen, I still have to go through the Joining.” she said shortly after, as if telling him the sky was blue.

This broke the spell and he took a huge step back, blushing crimson.

“O-of course. Sure. I hope you do well… On whatever your Joining is.”

“Let us hope so.”

With that, she was gone, and Cullen was left to his own helpless desires.


	4. Ostagar

While Solona was away, the time seemed to freeze. People walked slower, and talked slower as well. Cullen couldn’t keep still as he waited her return, watching the Mage’s Camp. 

Several torturous hours went by, and finally Solona returned, Alistair at her heels.

“H-have you gone through the Joining?” Cullen stuttered, not quite believing his own sight.

“Was there any doubt?” Solona replied, with her usual smirk. “The hardest part was the meeting afterwards. It appears Alistair, you and I will not be at the battlefield.”

“The junior Wardens and the Templar will have to run an errand while missing the entire battle.” Alistair went on, bitterly.

At the reference of junior Wardens, Cullen noticed the absence of the other two recruits.

“And what about the other two? Are they coming, too?”

In response, Alistair shuddered.

“A bit too dead for that. Solona was the only one who made it through.”

“I have had my fair share of deadly initiation rites, thank you.” she replied with good humor.

It didn’t quite hide the fact that cold sweat beaded on her forehead, and her face was pale as if though a great deal of blood had been taken away from her. As far as Cullen knew, it could have happened: the Joining was a complete mystery for him.

The thought that she could not have returned was disheartening, and he was glad he didn’t think of it while still waiting. He wanted to hold and kiss her, but he couldn’t afford to be so open about his feelings, so Cullen focused on more practical matters:

“Which errand are we talking about? If I’m allowed to go, I should know what I am getting into.”

“We’ll have to reach the tower of Ishal and light up a beacon when the time is right.” Solona explained.

“So… There won’t be any darkspawn.”

“Probably not.” Alistair replied.

He looked displeased. Solona did, as well, but not very much so.

The feeling was all too familiar: Solona couldn’t know it, as she was not trained her entire life for battle and strife. Only a trained warrior would know the feeling of being left out of what was the purpose of much spent energy and effort.

Cullen was glad, however, that Solona would be out of danger.

“I don’t really think the King knows what he’s doing.” she said, then. “I’d much more prefer if we didn’t have to bend our knees to him. Aren’t we supposed to do what’s best?”

Alistair let out a weak and short sigh.

“Duncan’s the leader here. Whatever he says, goes.” 

The King might not have earned his position, but Duncan certainly did, or so Cullen thought.

“We must trust him.” he said. “If Duncan is indeed not required to bend his knee, then he must believe the plan is the best course of action. Despite everything, leaders do not share everything with the people under his command.”

Alistair made strangled noises, as if he wanted to speak, but couldn’t bring himself to pronounce the words clearly.

“I guess you are right.” he conceded, at last. “At any rate, we must prepare for the battle. Set the barricades up, oil up armors, sharpen our blades, that sort of thing.”

And so it was. There was still one night for them to sleep a little, but they could not. It was unlike anything Cullen ever seen: from the ruins of Ostagar, they could see the horde approaching, corrupting the skies and the earth beneath them. As the horde advanced, so did a storm, and the plants around the horde withered and died.

They were not far away, and no one could sleep.

Cullen was at the Warden’s camp, as he was supposed to vigil Solona, and the Wardens spoke in hushed whispers. Solona seemed pale, and had a green tint to her cheeks. Cullen wished he could dote on her, bring her water and perhaps find fresh fruit for her to eat, but, instead, he had to watch from afar as Alistair took care of her, whispering reassuringly, making her laugh and feeding her weak broth from time to time.

Solona was a Warden now, and the rift between she and Cullen just grew bigger. With a heavy heart, he watched, and watched, until the night was a couple of hours away from being over.

She had to stay in the Mage’s camp so Cullen could rest for a while, and for the first time in several hours, he approached her. Solona was by the fire, sitting on her own while Alistair spoke with older Wardens nearby.

“Solona, you should head for the Mage’s camp. I need to rest.”

She shook her head, in negative, like a stubborn sick child that refused to take the foul tasting medicine.

“Can’t you let me stay with Alistair? He has Templar training, and I’m not about to run away with a horde of darkspawn coming through, and feeling like this, as well.”

“How do you feel?” Cullen questioned her, trying to avoid speaking about Alistair.

“Suffice to say, I feel horrible, and I need a Warden to get me through this.” Solona eyed him, and it seemed that her eyes could probe every corner of Cullen’s mind. “I know you don’t like this one bit, but it is how it is. There are things I can’t tell you… Look, they set up a tent for me, here. You can use it. I won’t be able to.”

She did look terribly weak. Cullen slowly came to terms with the fact that, whatever the Joining was, it weakened her, and the only ones who could help her were Wardens.

Cullen wished it didn’t have to be Alistair, with his witty banter and nice blonde hair, but…

“Fine.” he said. “I can rest here.”

Solona did not even stand up to show him the directions. A nod of her head indicated a small tent close to the fire. The flap was up; it was possible to see it was meant for a person, maybe two, but no one was inside.

“Good night, Cullen.”

“Wake me up if there is anything I can do for you.”

She nodded, but Cullen doubted he would be disturbed. He left to pick up his sleeping clothes and his bedroll. When he returned, Alistar was back at Solona’s side. Cullen simply retreated to Solona’s tent, the jealousy feeling like a stab to his lungs.

He felt like he was invading her privacy after entering the tent: her belongings were at a corner, and her bedroll had been set up. The ambient inside the tent smelled nicely, not unlike her smell after a bath; whatever scented oil she used, it was strong enough to contaminate the air around it even from a closed flask.

Fumbling around to strip off his armor felt much more shameful, then, with the reminder of her presence everywhere. He quickly slipped into his old sleeping clothes and laid down on his bedroll, closing his eyes.

The tent let in the sound of chatter and the cracks of the fire outside.

Cullen wouldn’t sleep properly, not there, but if he went outside, he couldn’t just sit down and lounge around. His legs and arms were too tired to vigil anything in a standing position, however. The Templar’s tents would be the ideal, if they weren’t too far away.

He dozed on and off, his sleep light and troubled, until it was dawn. It was not dawn what woke up him, but Solona, getting inside the tent, unannounced. Cullen, on reflex, pulled his wool blanket to his chin, even though he was fully dressed with tunic and pants.

“W-what are you doing here?”

“I feel somewhat better. Alistair went to take a nap, all the Wardens are out in the field preparing for the battle.” Solona said in a quick report, while sitting on top of her bedroll, that Cullen did not touch during his stay at her tent.

She looked a bit sickly still, but so much better than before.

“I mean, if you took chastity vows, we could just talk or something, but it seems to me that you haven’t.” she went on. “And we could die in several hours, so even if nothing happens, I still want to enjoy your company.”

He let go of the blanket, and it pooled around his hips.

“Why would you want my company?” he asked, convinced that Solona would distance herself after spending so much time with Alistair.

“Because I have enjoyed it.” She said, putting herself on her hands and knees to reach out for a kiss, since she couldn’t quite stand up on the tent.

Once again Solona was firm, in control of the situation, and crawled closer to him, climbing on his lap, sitting sideways. The pressure of her weight on Cullen’s crotch drove him to the brink of losing his grip, but still, he broke the kiss: “Have you ever been… I mean, have you ever… W-well… Are we about to…”

So they were alone. In a tent. While Cullen wore easily removable clothes. He was not entirely unexperienced, but it wasn’t like he knew what to do, either…

“Hmmmm…” she mumbled quietly, with a sly smirk, her hands sliding inside his tunic to caress his naked flesh, while her fingers left a trail of fire after them. “I have been, I already had and yes, I am hoping we are about to.”

“Maker forgive me…” Cullen said under his breath, as he begun to awkwardly undo the buttons on the back of her robes.

OoOoO

“Do you think there is any chance of the Hero agreeing to meet with you, if we could send her a message?” the Seeker asked.

Insofar, she heard in interested silence, placid. Cullen thought his involvement with Solona would come out as a shock, because the only ones who would spread rumors about them were at Ostagar, which was to say they were dead.

It didn’t, however, cause any discernible effect on the Seeker, well above his rank on the Order. The fact said something about her determination on following the rules.

“If it’s not already in her plans to do so, it is unlikely.” Cullen replied, and then added, probing: “You seem to be quite non-judgemental about it all.”

“It is because I already knew. Leliana is with the Inquisition, Knight-Commander. She told me quite a bit about you, although, obviously, not with as much detail as you can provide me.”

“And who else is with you?”

“Leliana is working on gathering personnel as we speak. I, however, am in search for an Inquisitor. I still hope to convince you to it, but, for the meantime, whatever information about the Hero should suffice. She, too, has a powerful influence, and I don’t wish to force the burden of being Inquisitor on anyone. I was hoping she would consider the idea.”

“It’s been over a decade…” Cullen sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t know her at all, anymore. I didn’t know her well enough even then.”

“I have to keep trying until I find someone suitable and willing.” The Seeker said, and cut the subject short. “You were about to tell me of the battle of Ostagar.”

It was a memory Cullen didn’t wish to revisit.

“Well, everyone in Thedas knows how it went. You happen to be in Thedas. You might as well have asked anyone in your way here.”

“Like I said, I don’t want you to spare me any details.”

OoOoO

“It was not supposed to have any darkspawn here!” Alistair cried, as his sword slashed open the neck of a hurlock.

“You wanted to fight earlier, now didn’t you?” Cullen replied in a shout, protecting himself from an incoming attack with his shield.

As it turned out, the three of them, plus another mage of the Circle, did a great job on making their way through the darkspawn. There weren’t many of them, just enough to put up a good fight. Solona, and the mage that she seemed to be in friendly terms with, dealt with the genlocks from afar, while Cullen and Alistair got rid of the hurlocks coming close.

“Yes, but I didn’t want the darkspawn to be intelligent enough to attack us from the rear!”

The tower was close. They could make it, but only the Maker knew what was waiting for them inside.

“I guess you were right about the plan after all, Cullen.” Solona entered their discussion.

Yes, he had been right. Duncan seemed to have in mind the chance groups of darkspawn separated from the horde. However, it alarmed Cullen that they were not supposed to do that; that it was unheard of.

From where they stood, the battlefield was out of sight, and mostly out of ear shot, too. Until they made it to the top of the tower, there was no way to know how the battle was coming along.

After much darkspawn blood, they eventually made it to the upper levels of the tower. Cullen had never fought like that. His muscles ached, and protested, but somehow he still managed to gather strength to keep going.

Which came in handy, considering that in the chamber where the beacon was, an ogre waited for them. Now, Cullen got used to the darkspawn horrendous appearance and their irritating hum, but the sheer size of the ogre left him motionless.

It roared to them, and started to charge.

Solona had quicker reflexes than any of the group, and summoned a spell that left the ogre paralyzed.

“Cut its hamstrings.” she said to Alistair and Cullen. “I can’t keep it stunned much longer. And you, Philip, try to freeze his feet and legs.”

Cullen ran towards the ogre’s ankles and slashed away, putting as much strength as he could possibly gather. Black ichor sprayed on the floor, but only shortly, because soon the legs of the ogre were frozen.

Solona’s spell went away. The monster tried to move and only managed to fall forward. Alistair ran and jumped on its back, digging the sword undoubtedly between the monster’s ribs; Cullen followed suit, though he dragged his blade around the ogre’s guts.

Philip burned the eyes of the beast, and it soon stopped struggling and roaring, lying flaccid on the floor.

“Now, that was something…” Solona commented, as Alistair took off his sword from the monster’s body and ran towards a window.

“Andraste’s knickers. We have to light the beacon. Now.”

Solona set the beacon on fire with a spell, in a heartbeat. It seemed that their task was done, with just a few words from Solona’s mouth.

“Now what?” asked her fellow mage.

“It’s bad out there. We should get to the battlefield.”

Everyone agreed, and they left the tower easily enough, considering they had cleared the path in their way up and sealed the front door. Once they unsealed it, however…

Darkspawn swarmed around the tower, having already destroying the archers nearby, and they reacted quickly once the doors of the tower were open.

The group had no time to go back inside and seal the door. Cullen didn’t remember much else: just the hum, and the blind fight for Solona’s and his own life. Philip tumbling backwards as a darkspawn blade got through him.

And then there was fire.

And then nothing.


	5. Duty

Cullen might as well have made a hole on the ground in front of Flemeth’s hut, from pacing back and forth nonstop.

He didn’t know why or how, he woke up at the hut, with just a minor gash to the ribs. Alistair was mostly unscathed as well, and Flemeth and Morrigan ejected them out of the hut as soon as they recovered consciousness so they could try to heal Solona.

She was motionless, barely breathing. Her face was sunken and her lips were colorless and cracked.

The fact she might not resist the wounds – considering she was the only one not wearing armor – shut down any other thought Cullen might have, such as the fact he had been saved by the Witch of the Wilds, from a battle that was lost because the teyrn betrayed his King, against a Blight that could scarcely be fought against if all but two Grey Wardens were dead.

While Cullen was restless, Alistair sat on the edge of the porch, perfectly still.

“Do you think she’s going to survive?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” Cullen replied.

Alistair went on: “I don’t want her to die. I’ll be all alone if she does.”

Of course. He would be the only Warden alive, and didn’t seem very eager to be on that spot; Alistair looked as if he was about to break down in tears. Cullen felt like burying his sword in another ogre, which, he supposed, was evidence that he was as shaken as Alistair.

“What do you plan to do?” Cullen asked. “After this?”

“Commit suicide and finish what Loghain started...? I don’t know. I don’t have a single clue. I didn’t receive any training for this.” Alistair put his head between his palms and clawed at his hair, making it point in every direction. “And what about you?”

For Cullen, it was not a difficult question.

“I’ll send word to Knight-Commander and see what he will have me do. I suppose he thinks I am dead along with everyone else, but I’m not. I’ll let him know.”

“And if he tells you to get back to the Circle?”

“Then I go.” Cullen replied, simply. “My duty is to watch for Solona until he says otherwise.”

It was the inevitable truth. Going back to the Circle after everything that happened would not be pleasant, but deserting the Order was unthinkable. Cullen recalled the conversation with Solona, by the docks of Lake Calenhad.

His duty with the Maker was not fighting the Blight.

The two of them remained in silence, and Cullen kept on pacing back and forth. He ended up so focused on his own walking that he failed to notice when the door of the hut opened and Solona walked out of it.

“Next time, I’m borrowing a set of armor from one of you.” she said.

Alistair immediately stood up to face her, and Cullen tripped on his own feet when he heard her voice.

“Please do.” Alistair said. “I’m… I’m glad you are well.”

“So am I, I must say.”

Solona smiled radiantly to Alistair, and her gaze wandered from him to Cullen. Her smile grew bigger and she tried to fight it back by pursing her lips together. 

Cullen promised himself he would not do anything flashy, but he couldn’t avoid it. Solona standing there, still far too pale and weak, with dark circles around her eyes and hair a bird’s nest, was the most beautiful sight. She was alive.

He ran to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, gently, and buried his face on the curve of her neck, speechless. Solona pulled him closer, and whispered to his ear, a hint of laughter to her tone: “Me too, Cullen. Me too.”

“My…” Flemeth chuckled. “Isn’t that a curious reaction, coming from a Templar?”

Morrigan, on the background, crossed her arms in front of her chest and made disgusted noises.

Cullen let go of the hug, but didn’t step away. He did not even blush, or cleared his throat, or otherwise tried to mend the situation. That was not the time to pretend he didn’t have strong feelings for Solona.

“It kind of… Is.” Alistair replied, disapprovingly. “Look, whatever it is that the two of you plan to do, Solona has to stay. We are Wardens. We have a Blight to fight against. This is not the time to run away and have a forbidden marriage, and forbidden babies and a forbidden dog.”

“No one is running away, Alistair.” Solona said, entwining her fingers with Cullen’s. “I’ll stay with you and Cullen will be back to the Circle when the Knight-Commander decides it’s time for him to return.”

Cullen nodded, in agreement.

“I plan on sending him word of my survival as soon as possible.”

“Well, that will have to wait for the time being. Do the Wardens already know what to do?” Flemeth said, Morrigan wavering behind her like a shadow. “If I must give unsolicited advice, you may not have any more Wardens here in Ferelden, but you still have the treaties. They will make up for quite an army, I must say.”

“There is still Loghain, though.” Alistair observed. “He is distrustful of the Wardens. I’ll doubt he’ll just let us gather an army without trying anything funny. But I suppose… There is someone we can talk to. The Arl of Redcliffe, Eamon. He is the uncle of King Cailan and is a very honorable man. He will not let a traitor have the throne of Ferelden.”

Cullen was not truly paying attention. While there was still the possibility that the Knight-Commander wouldn’t call him back to the Circle, he thought it to be rather… Unlikely.

Solona was Harrowed, and already proved quite well she wouldn’t run away from the Wardens. There was no clear danger of escape or possession, not anymore, and it was not even because of any risk that Cullen ended up there. Truth be told, the Knight-Commander only assigned him the task on a fit of rage because Solona would walk free after attempting to go away.

Greagoir should have calmed down, by then.

And so, he savored in the sensation of Solona’s fingers between his. He knew from the start that it wouldn’t last, and perhaps going back to the Circle would hurt even more because Cullen allowed anything to happen between him and Solona, but he thought that enjoying what he could, while he could, wouldn’t be so bad.

Being with a mage was strictly against the rules, yes, but Cullen didn’t see anything wrong with it. He would still fulfill his duties with the Order, if those required him to be apart from her, or even worse than that. How was it any different from having a wife, which, under certain conditions, Templars were allowed to have?

“We have to get going immediately, then. We don’t know how bad it is out there.” Solona said.

“I agree.” Flemeth replied. “But I must ask you a favor, in return for what I have done for you.”

Alistair arched an eyebrow.

“This is going to be bad, isn’t it?”

“Mother, I told you it doesn’t have to be—“ Morrigan protested, tense, and Flemeth cut her out:

“Hush, child. What I will ask of you, in return for saving your lives, is that you take Morrigan with you. She always wanted to leave the Wilds, and it seems you will need skilled people by your side.”

Cullen didn’t know what the proper reaction should be, to the prospect of the daughter of the Witch of the Wilds joining them, but certainly shouldn’t be easy acceptance.

She didn’t seem to represent any danger, though, so why bother protesting?

“But…”Alistair concurred. “If she doesn’t want to go, she should definitely stay.”

Alistair didn’t care about Morrigan’s wishes, not as much as he cared about having her not to join them, or so it appeared.

“For once, I find your words valuable, Alistair.” The witch herself said. 

“Sometimes, Mothers have to assert their authority, dear. You will thank me for this, later.”

“With all due respect, Mother, I doubt it.”

Solona shrugged, clearly having the same thought process as Cullen.

“We’ll try to bring her back in one piece, if she wants to come with us.”

“In that case, you four should be packing up. I’m afraid I am short of camping gear and you will have to stop by Lothering first thing, for supplies.” Flemeth told them.

“I just need to talk to Solona in private, for a moment.” Alistair said, and Solona followed him to a place out of hearing range.

Cullen was left standing with the Witch of the Wilds and her daughter. It was not a situation he had a proper reaction for.

“I think you are going to be first and last Templar to come out of here alive.” Morrigan said. “But that will quickly change if you decide to tell our location to your Knight-Commander.”

“Does it seem likely to you that I will do that?” Cullen replied, not losing his cool. 

Morrigan narrowed her eyes at him, and then she looked at Alistair and Solona, behind Cullen.

“Your methods appear to be quite unorthodox, yes. Let’s start to make the preparations, then. Alistair’s crying session will take some time.”

He wasn’t crying as much as he was on the verge of tears again, and Solona comforted him. Cullen recalled Duncan: it looked like he and Alistair were quite close to one another, and Duncan was dead.

Yes, Alistair and Solona’s talk would take quite some time.

“What should I do?” Cullen asked to Morrigan.

OoOoO

“I haven’t heard anything about the involvement of Flemeth in this.” The Seeker said.

“I’m not giving out the location of the hut, if that’s what you plan on asking. I’m quite certain the threat still applies.” Cullen laughed.

The Seeker allowed herself to smirk a little. 

“I suppose we must pick our fights, Knight-Commander. So, did anything of notice happened in your way to Lothering?”

OoOoO

The way to Lothering was not easy. Even if they had tents and proper camping gear with them, the group still wouldn’t be able to stop and have proper rest. Groups of darkspawn were scattered everywhere, attacking everything on sight.

Cullen learned that not only the Grey Wardens were immune to the Blight, they could also tell when there were darkspawn approaching, and even how large their numbers were. From time to time, Alistair would warn them to keep their staves and swords at ready, or Solona would tell them to go a certain way and not the other.

The first night, when Alistair declared they were safe enough to at least make a fire and sit down to rest their legs for a couple of hours, Solona said, gravely:

“Lothering will be gone soon if whoever is in charge of Ferelden doesn’t set up an army there. The horde is reorganizing and coming this way.”

“How can you know?” Cullen asked. “I know you can’t answer properly, but…”

“Let’s just say I have a stronger intuition now.”

Morrigan scoffed, at a distance. 

“I certainly hope you two have a plan to detain this teyrn who holds the power as of now. If Ferelden loses its whole two Grey Wardens, everything might as well go to the Void.”

“Arl Eamon will help us.” Alistair replied, with conviction. “He’ll spread the news of Loghain’s betrayal and everyone will listen to him. This is why we have to reach him as soon as we can.”

Gladly, Redcliffe was not far from the Circle. Cullen told he was going to write to Knight-Commander Greagoir – which he planned to do, from Lothering – but regardless of either Greagoir wanted him back or not, a trip to the Circle had to be in order, and soon enough.

He didn’t speak out loud, but… He needed lyrium. It had been only four years since he took his vows, and four years since his first sip of the forsaken metal. He hoped that going several days without it wouldn’t be too bad, not in comparison to higher ranked Templars who have been on larger daily quantities, for much longer.

Cullen already felt his whole skin prickle under his armor, and restlessness took over his limbs, even though he was exhausted. The little lyrium they could find on the bodies along the way was given to Solona: she was up and running on magic, and without lyrium, she was defenseless against darkspawn.

Moreover, the lyrium fed to the Templar was different. Cullen could take any lyrium and feel relief, yes, but it wouldn’t be enough.

Understanding the urgency of the situation, he chose not to mention anything about the lyrium withdrawal. No one seemed to remember that little fact, possibly because they didn’t need lyrium. Solona went away the very day she was Harrowed, Alistair couldn’t take his vows, and Morrigan seemed to be quite powerful without any help.

Lyrium wouldn’t even be on their minds, but it was all Cullen could think about, as Solona took a quick nap, head resting on his lap. He petted her hair absently, calculating just how many days he’d need to keep himself together until they made it to the Circle.

Morrigan was scouting their location, out of sight. Alistair told her there were a couple of darkspawn around but he later confided to Cullen there was none, actually.

“I’m patiently waiting for the moment where you’ll jump on me and run away with Solona.” Alistair said, when Solona started to snore and drool lightly, brought to deep slumber by Cullen’s caresses to her hair.

“I’m glad you are waiting patiently, then.” Cullen replied. Alistair’s constant use of sarcasm was contagious.

“You truly don’t plan to get away? Not even a little bit? Not at all?”

“No. You know, the day we left the Tower, I told her I’d cover for her if she wanted to escape. For a while, we were alone at the docks, and Duncan was still at the Tower. She chose to stay and be a Grey Warden. You won’t be alone, Alistair.”

“But you will.” he observed. “And I can’t even make you a Warden, if you want to. All the Wardens who knew how to do the Joining are dead. Wardens from other places will take quite a while to reach us. I don’t even know any of them.” 

Cullen shrugged.

“I don’t want to be a Grey Warden. My duty is to the Chantry and the Order, protecting the mages. Solona can take care of herself.”

Yes, maybe the choice of becoming a Warden could be appealing to him, but he would not be so selfish as to leave the Order after finally seeing what was wrong with it. The weight of all the mages he saw being hurt for no reason were on his shoulders. He loved Solona, but would feel miserable if he just ignored it all.

Cullen was glad that Solona didn’t even suggest the idea of him becoming a Warden.

Alistair stood up, with a sigh.

“I’m sorry that things had to be this way with you two. She really likes you, you know? She just… Lights up when you two talk. Or when she talks about you. I’ll even call Morrigan back. That’s how sorry I am feeling.” he said, before leaving.

Cullen was deeply sorry, too.


	6. Withdrawal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part is going to be a sloooooooooooow one. I think it's relevant and interesting to really explore Cullen's state of mind.

“I have travelled this distance many times before, but it never felt so tiring.” Morrigan complained as the entrance to Lothering became visible on the horizon. “Perhaps it’s Alistair’s presence.”

“So you come here often?” Solona inquired, although she glanced at Alistair before speaking, checking if he was alright.

He was anything but: withdrawn, silent… He did not eat well, either. Solona couldn’t make him speak or put something in his stomach during the entire trip. 

“Not as often as I would have preferred. It is a small location, but it’s big enough to have its own Chantry and a small force of Templars.”

Chantry. Templars.

Lyrium.

Cullen had to admit he knew very little of Ferelden’s places and villages. His world had been his own village, the monastery where he trained for five years and Kinloch Hold. He could probably cite the most part of the Chant of Light without hesitating, but he couldn’t tell the difference between the map of Ferelden and the map of Orlais. He did not remember Lothering had a Chantry.

Perhaps there was a chance the Templars stationed at Lothering could share some of their lyrium, enough for him to get through the days ahead.

“I need to speak to them. I’ll have them send my message to Knight-Commander Greagoir.” he said.

The lyrium withdrawal was taking its tool. Every little noise sounded much louder in his head, making him annoyed easily. Angered, even. Solona’s voice ringed in his ears, making him wish to tell her to the Maker’s love to shut up. It was terribly hard to focus and to recall things.

But he hid it well. However hard it was to focus, he was still sharp enough to know it was best to keep quiet, at the risk of the rest of group distrusting him and his words, and perhaps even rushing a trip to the Circle.

It was how the Templars were kept in line. A misdemeanor and one would have to go on without lyrium for a couple of days. By the end of the punishment, every single ounce of willpower was depleted. Getting lyrium back – and never losing it again – was all that mattered.

Cullen was glad to know his struggle would be cut short.

“I must remind that there are certain circunstances of our situation that you cannot reveal to your fellow Templars.” Morrigan warned him, in a voice that sounded more unsettling than what it already did.

“Like I said, I won’t tell the Templars to get your mother.” Cullen said through his teeth, and he noticed her grimacing slightly. Controlling his voice, he added: “She has done much for us, and I have no problems with her staying right where she is.”

“Good. Otherwise you’d be sending them to their deaths.”

Cullen rather not think about the fact he was travelling beside a woman that possibly killed more Templars than he could count. He wanted to think Morrigan was reasonable enough to only attack with a good reason.

“I need to ask, though: how often did you leave the Wilds?” Solona asked, curiously.

“Not very often, and not to very far, which, I must say, is not to my taste. However… If the only way for me to leave the Wilds to somewhere farther than Lothering is to have a Blight coming upon Ferelden, I think I’d rather stay at home.”

Solona nodded, agreeing with Morrigan’s sentiment.

“I think the same about leaving the Circle. I would have escaped, anyhow, but I see now that I would probably regret it. I want to reach new places but if I have to do so in constant flight...”

She let out a sigh, looking ahead in resignation. Morrigan just snorted, and all the while Cullen clenched and unclenched his fists. If they could keep silent for only a bit…

“This is why I would never bow to the Circle. I much prefer my freedom.”

“As long as the Circle exists as it is, Morrigan, will you ever be truly free? Or were you not bound to the Wilds your whole life because of the Templars?”

“Such an interesting discourse coming from someone bedding a Templar.” The witch replied.

“In my defense…” Solona said, with a laugh. “I can ignore that fact once the armor is off.”

“Let’s not head the conversation there, please?” Cullen intervened, his ears going red. “And we should stop talking too loud about any of this, anyhow. Lothering is close.”

To his relief, there was silence. Only for a fleeting moment, however. They were about to enter Lothering when a group of suspicious looking men stopped them.

“Hold there, travelers! If you want to get to Lothering, you must pay a toll. Ten silvers.” said one of them, carrying two daggers on his belt and swaggering as if though he had nothing to fear. 

“Toll?” Solona asked, oblivious to the danger. Or so Cullen thought. “What the toll is for?”

“To keep the Imperial Highway. You know. Things have been a little troubled around here.”

They had to be the most unofficial looking men Cullen ever laid his eyes upon. Mismatched armors, makeshift weapons…

“This one seems to be a Templar. We better just let them pass.” said another man from the group.

The first man laughed at the suggestion.

“A Templar? Coming from the South? I don’t think so. Maybe he just stumbled over the right corpse.”

Cullen watched the whole ordeal in exasperation. Now that he realized there was a Chantry in Lothering, every second spent not being on his way there seemed to drag into an eternity, so he decided to cut the conversation short. Debilitated as he was, he got closer to the man who approached them and brought him down with a single kneel to the stomach.

He drew his sword and pressed the tip of it against the ribs of the bandit, while the group watched in horrified silence. And not just the bandit group, either, but Cullen was beyond caring. The bandits stood in the way, and they had to go.

As his sword passed through the man’s chest, it made a wet, crunching sound. The bandit gurgled blood, in a last gasp of exasperation, and moved no more, as the blood pooled around him.

The group of bandits fled for their lives as Cullen tried to free his sword from the man’s lung, and, meanwhile, Solona covered her wide open mouth with her hands, but soon recovered enough from the shock to speak.

“Cullen, why did you do this? They ran away with what the silver they stole from the refugees! I was going to try to get it back!”

“I-I didn’t think…” Cullen stammered, coming to his senses. There was so much blood, seeping into the small crevices of the stones. The stain would be there in ages to come.

Solona took a deep breath, and explained herself in a contained voice: 

“I suppose you did well. I just thought that maybe we could have the silver back without killing anyone.”

“What I regret is that I didn’t get to kill one myself.” Morrigan said, uncaring to the fact Solona was terrified and disappointed, as she stared at the corpse before her.

Cullen put away the sword and closed the distance between him and Solona.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a plan. I thought… I thought that we just had to drive them away.” he said to her, quietly.

Their eyes met, and Cullen became aware that they didn’t know each other all that well. How much could he know her, anyway? He only knew what he saw at the Circle, while Solona was under strict vigilance. Who was Solona, when she had the freedom to be who she wanted to be?

“Well, that, too, but getting what they stole back wouldn’t be so bad, now would it…? But it’s alright. I suppose I couldn’t expect you to read my mind and know what I intended to do.”

“I’m sorry.” was all Cullen could say.

“You did nothing wrong.” Solona replied with a warm smile. “Let’s go.”

Alistair, then, decided to come out of his shell: “But before we do that… I want to know what we are going to do, exactly. After getting supplies.”

Solona merely shrugged. 

“Well, I was planning to follow your lead. You are the Senior Warden here, plus you are the one who knows Arl Eamon.”

“Yes, but I was wondering if you wouldn’t have any better ideas. You are one, out of us two, that can come up with good plans. If you hadn’t stepped in when Morrigan first came to us, we wouldn’t have the treaties. We would have been dead, too, because we wouldn’t be in good terms with Morrigan and her mother.”

Cullen crossed his arms and stared at a distance. How conveniently flattering of Alistair to say just that, right after what happened.

“If you put that way… I do think we should seek out the Arl, but let us get proper supplies and try to see what’s going on.” Solona said. “It would be nice to visit the Chantry first. Cullen has a message to send, and he can get information from the Templars there.”

They all agreed to it and went ahead; Cullen made sure to walk closely beside Solona as they made it to the heart of the village.

By simply looking, in their way there, it was not difficult to realize what was going on. Many refugees set camp right outside Lothering; the refugees were preparing weapons, trying to set up barricades with whatever they could gather. The darkspawn horde was coming their way and there was no one to protect them.

Inside Lothering’s walls, things weren’t much different. People begged for help, and reinforced the gates. Cullen saw only a handful of Templars trying to maintain some sense of order, acting as guardsmen.

“Whatever happened here…” he muttered to Solona. “These people were left to their own luck.”

The Templars barely gave Cullen a second glance, too focused on their tasks to notice a Templar travelling with three people, neither of the three belonging to the Order. 

The Chantry, likewise, was packed with refugees as well. The building itself was not a stronghold, but it might as well be, considering how calm people were inside. One of things that drew Cullen to the Order was how faith brought a sense of peace and serenity to people’s lives, no matter how turbulent the situation.

“I know that man.” Alistair said, right after they walked inside. “It’s a Knight from Redcliffe!”

A man standing at a distant corner did have the symbol of Redcliffe on his shield, so perhaps Alistair was right. Solona leaned to Cullen’s ear: “You better deal with the Templars alone. I will go talk to this knight with Morrigan and Alistair.”

Cullen nodded and looked around, after being left alone. The Templar in charge was not hard to find: a Knight Templar with long black hair in braids was sending orders to a group of recruits around him. He quickly dismissed the recruits, however, and approached Cullen with caution.

“I am sorry, but I don’t recognize your face, Templar.”

“As you shouldn’t. I serve at Kinloch Hold, but was relieved from my duties to be at the Battle of Ostagar. My name is Cullen, and I came here to ask you to send a message to Knight-Commander Greagoir to let him know I’m still alive.”

“I am Ser Byrant.” The Knight Templar introduced himself, still sounding cautious. “I can send the message if you like, but I can’t guarantee any response. We were left on our own after Teyrn Loghain’s army passed through here and the Arl and his men left with him; we tried to get in touch with the Circle and ask from reinforcements, and we had no answer.”

“Could it be that the darkspawn made it to the docks? Perhaps they are intercepting the messages.”

“I’m afraid we have no way of knowing… Look, I’ll send your message, but there is something I need to warn you about: you can’t stay here. There is a bunch of soldiers searching for a group of people, and they mentioned a Templar. They are not the Arl’s men, but they are no bandits, either. I have no way of knowing their intentions, neither yours, so the message is all I will be able to do for you.”

“Of course. Just let the Knight-Commander know I’ll be in Redcliffe for the next days.” Cullen replied and with a curt nod, he walked away.

He kept his calm façade at a great cost; he was certain relief from the withdrawal would be soon, and now… If the Circle was out of reach, the lyrium stocks had to be low anywhere near Lake Calenhead. Cullen would have no better luck in another village, especially considering no Templar would share their scarce lyrium supply with a stranger that was being chased like a criminal, and might as well be one.

Suddenly, all the sounds echoed in his head in an infuriating way, the stench of all badly washed people stuck in a closed space became much stronger, nearly overwhelming. Focusing was close to impossible with all the rage and the amplified sensations swallowed him whole, and for a good moment Cullen was disoriented.

He stopped and took several deep breaths. As a recruit, Cullen could achieve incredible levels of focus for a hormone-ridden boy with no access to lyrium, otherwise he wouldn’t even get to be a Templar. If he could do it then, he could do it again. And he would do it for how long it was necessary.

Getting by without lyrium would have to become easier.

OoOoO

The Seeker had a slight scowl stamped on her face. She had to know better than him what going short of lyrium could cause.

“I’m curious, Knight-Commander. Do you still drink lyrium?”

“Of course. There is no other way for a Templar to be even a close match to a skilled mage. It’s not a secret that I trust and respect mages, but… Mages are people and people can be weak-willed, maleficent. Abominations and blood mages are still out there, and they need to be dealt with. I took the vows, Seeker. I swore to serve the Maker. If that is how I have to serve him, so be it.” 

“And did you ever regret taking the first sip?”

“Again, of course. When I came to Kirkwall, I spent most of my time wondering what would have gone different if I wasn’t on lyrium withdrawal, if I wasn’t bound to the Order this way. I do stand by my vows, but there is no denying I hardly had any choice then, and I certainly don’t have it now.”

Cullen tapped his fingertips melodically on the desk, and went on:

“In the end, it doesn’t matter what could have gone differently. Things happened the way they had to.”


	7. Allies

Cullen reunited with Solona and the others right outside the Chantry. The man they were talking to indeed was an acquaintance of Alistair’s, and had let them know Arl Eamon was terribly sick. It took Cullen a great deal of willpower to even recall why that was so important. He just nodded along as Morrigan, Alistair and Solona decided where to go next.

Morrigan suggested a tavern nearby where they would find hot meals and some supplies, and there they went, Cullen nearly sweating from the effort of not forgetting where he was and why he was there, and the others quite shocked to see the great number of refugees around, even Morrigan herself.

Before they could enter the tavern, however, they were stopped by one of the refugees.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t even bother entering. The tavern’s full.” a ragged man said. “They call themselves soldiers, I call them bandits. They are looking for someone and nearly killed a woman just now.”

“Do you have any idea of who they are or who they are looking for?” Solona asked the man.

“I bet even they don’t even know any longer. They searched for a while and decided to pack the tavern and start drinking.”

Soldiers, bandits… Looking for someone… The words swirled around in Cullen’s mind for a long moment before they could trigger a conclusion. Cullen kicked himself mentally for not mentioning earlier they were being tracked down by a group of soldiers.

“Ser Byrant mentioned them.” he blurted out, then. “They are looking for us. We shouldn’t enter this tavern, Solona.”

Solona frowned, her lips turned into a thin line.

“Looking for us…? Why would someone be looking for us?”

“If you don’t mind, Solona, I’d prefer finding out why from a safe distance. I don’t think we should attract any attention.” Alistair said, taking a discreet step away from the tavern’s door.

“Well, yes, but we came here to know what’s happening, did we not? If we are being hunted down, we need to know why. It’s important. We won’t be able to stay hidden for long anyway.”

The refugee interrupted her, raising his open hands in a submissive gesture.

“Look, I don’t want to know anything about what you are up to. Just… Try not to get anyone innocent killed. Maker knows we had many of those…”

With that, the refugee left.

“We don’t know how many men are in that tavern.” Cullen pointed out to Solona. “You never even killed a man, and it might come down to that.”

Solona took her staff off her back with a circular motion, twirling the staff around with her fingers before safely securing it.

“If it comes down to it, then they’ll get what they deserve. Let me do the talking first.”

Cullen followed her inside, albeit reluctantly. The tavern was indeed packed with soldiers, real soldiers with fine armors and weapons. These were no bandits, and who seemed to be the chief of them stepped forward to Solona’s direction as soon as she opened the door, with another man at his heels.

“I told you I saw them. They have a Templar, and the woman matches the description.” said the man to the chief.

Cullen’s sword arm reached for his weapon, although he did not drew it. Not yet. It was time for Solona to talk, though he doubted she’d be able to sweet talk her way out of that one.

“And who is looking for me, exactly…?”

“Loghain Mac Tir. The Grey Wardens have been charged with treason for betraying the King in the battlefield, and the Regent wants your heads.” announced the chief.

It was clear an attack from either side was about to happen, when a Sister got in between Solona and the chief.

“Are you sure we can’t handle this without any killings?” she said, though she carried a sword of her own.

“If these men surrender without putting up a fight, yes.” Solona replied. “The Grey Wardens have not betrayed the King. Loghain is only alive to tell the tale because he was the one who did it. Is it not funny how all but two Wardens are dead, while he and all of his tropes are alive?”

“I won’t surrender to traitors!” cried the chief.

Cullen drew his sword as the first attacks begun. There was something oddly relaxing about swordfighting: nothing else mattered but defending yourself and attacking the right spots of your enemy. Cullen easily slashed open the three men who came after him.

Meanwhile, The Sister who tried to battle the chief. She was quick in her feet and a dirty fighter, though the chief was gaining ground. Cullen charged for him, once he was done with the three men, and bashed the chief’s flank with the shield, throwing the foe on the floor.

Cullen put his sword up high, tip down, ready to burst through the man’s chestplate and ribs, when Solona ordered: “Cullen, stop. We are already safe. No need to kill yet someone else.”

He looked around and saw the bloodshed. Seven men taken down, dead on the floor. Only the chief left alive. He wanted to argue against it, but just lowered his sword; this time, he could tell Solona had a plan.

She approached the man on the floor and rested the gemstone of her staff against the chief’s throat.

“I’ll let you live.” she purred. Cullen couldn’t see her eyes, but he would probably be scared if he could. “And you’ll do this: go back to Loghain. Tell him that the Grey Wardens are alive. Tell him that we remember.”

The man had not been injured, but he might as well have bled all over the floor, given how pale his face was.

“I-I’ll do that. Of course. Whatever you ask.”

Solona released him and straightened herself.

“Run. Now.” He ran off so fast Cullen could have sworn that he vanished. Solona turned to the Sister, and added: “Thank you for your assistance.”

“I could not turn away my back to people doing the Maker’s work.” the red-haired woman replied. Her voice transpired a certainty, a purposefulness, and yet it made her sound naïve. She had to be anything but, if she could handle herself with a sword in hands. “My name is Leliana, and I plan to be joining you.”

“Why? Don’t you have obligations at the Chantry?”

“I have an obligation with the Maker. And He has told me to assist the Grey Wardens and fight against the Blight.”

“Told you?” Morrigan asked, skeptically. “How?”

“I had a vision, and I just knew I had to help when I heard rumors about Grey Wardens in Lothering.”

Not only Leliana sounded naïve, but she also seemed to be insane. It didn’t look like she would be of much help, and still Solona agreed: “Any help is needed. I’ll be glad if you come with us.”

“I was thinking that maybe we could use sane help.” Alistair muttered.

Morrigan complemented: “The crack in her skull was worse than what mother thought at first.”

“Don’t Sisters have duties at the Chantry?” Cullen asked, reiterating Solona’s point.

Leliana either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the string of commentaries from Morrigan and Alistair, and replied to Cullen calmly. 

“They do, in fact, but I am not a sister. I am simply affirmed, and as such I am free to leave anytime I so desire.”

“Well, then… We should leave. We just killed seven men inside this tavern.” Solona said. The owner of the tavern was holed up somewhere, and the few patrons that weren’t the soldiers had fled during the fight. “Do you know any place where we can get supplies, tents, that sort of thing?”

“Of course. I’ll show you the way.”

OoOoO

The Seeker appeared to be amused at Cullen’s description of Leliana.

“Leliana is now the Spymaster to the Most Holy.” she said. “And she pointed me in your direction when I expressed my desire to seek help for an Inquisitor. I still think you are our best hope, Knight-Commander.”

“I respectfully disagree. I have no influence over the Order, and very little leverage towards the Chantry. I kept the peace and the order around Kirkwall and arguably some of the Free Marches, but Val Royeaux would still march all the way here to put my head on a spike… If only Ferelden and Orlais were not swallowed by chaos as soon as the opportunity for me to take this position arrived.”

The Seeker did not reply to that. She knew it was true.

“And, if you must know, I am not diplomatic, either. The Chantry was diplomatic during the initial stages of the mage rebellion in Kirkwall and look what happened.” Cullen added. “I don’t agree with what was done for the freedom of the mages, Seeker, but sometimes we need to take sides. I took mine, and I have lost the support of the Chantry. Solona, on the other hand… Was too diplomatic for my taste, at times.”

OoOoO

With Leliana’s aid, soon they were supplied and ready to leave. Perhaps staying the night would have been better, but no one wanted to stay considering the stir that happened at the tavern.

On their way out, however, there was a slight detour. A gigantic cage had been set right out Lothering’s exit, and inside, a qunari stood still, his eyes scanning the surroundings. Hearing about Qunaris was quite different from seeing one in flesh. He easily dwarfed any human, no matter how tall, and his muscles bulged under the tunic he wore. Cullen wondered if perhaps the qunari couldn’t simply use his hands to destroy the cage bars and leave.

“Look at this powerful creature, stuck in a cage to die like prey.” Morrigan said. “Such a shame.”

Solona, fascinated, approached the cage, while Cullen and Alistair kept a safe distance.

“Hello.” she greeted the qunari, charming as usual.

“I have no more patience to entertain people of your kind. Leave me alone.” the qunari replied, unmoved.

“I don’t want entertainment.” Solona retorted. “I want to know why you are in that cage. Darkspawn are coming soon. You will probably be eaten alive if you stay in there.”

“I have a committed a crime, and it put me in this cage. If atonement for my wrongdoings means I’ll be eaten alive by darkspawn, so be it.”

Solona arched an eyebrow. Cullen could almost hear the machinations in her brain; whatever came out of that, would probably be questionable.

“What if I told you I am a Grey Warden seeking for help? If you want to help me, you can pay for your crimes in a more productive way, and the chances of being eaten alive by darkspawn are the same, if not higher, than if you stay here in this cage. What say you?”

“My word is of little importance in the matter. If the Revered Mother decides assisting you is fitting atonement, then I will follow you.”

“I could try talking to the Revered Mother.” Leliana chimed in. “No living being deserves to be locked in a cage in such manner.”

Solona nodded to Leliana and turned to the qunari: “My name is Solona. What is your name?”

“I am a Sten of the Beresaad, an order of great warriors.”

“A Sten?”

“We do not have names as you have.”

“Well, I’ll call you Sten. Is that alright?”

“What you call me does not matter considering I am still inside this cage, and you are still leaving.”

“I’ll get the key.” Solona said to him and turned on her heels. “You heard it. Let’s head back to the Chantry and find the Revered Mother.”

Cullen followed without question. Asking help for a criminal qunari wasn’t to his taste, but then again, it depended on the crime. Perhaps it was petty theft and he was locked outside simply because no Templar or guard stood a chance against him.

He was also too busy keeping himself aware and focused to argue. 

Alas, when they found the Revered Mother, it was much worse than what Cullen imagined…

The Revered Mother stood from her seat when they walked in.

“Leliana, have you changed your mind about leaving the Chantry?”

“Unfortunately not, Revered Mother.” she replied. “But there is a friend of mine that needs to talk to you.”

Solona stepped forward and greeted the senior woman with a respectful nod. She said: “I am here to talk about Sten, the caged qunari outside of Lothering.”

The Revered Mother turned away, hiding her reaction to Solona’s words.

“What about him?”

“I want him to be released into my custody. I am a Grey Warden, in great need of help. Sten will do.”

“If he leaves that cage, his next victims might be you and I. Did he tell you what he did? I suppose not, if you come here to ask me such a thing.”

“What did he do, Revered Mother?”

“He killed an entire family with his bare hands. The family had found a wounded qunari and took him in to treat his wounds, and look what their charity brought them.” The Revered Mother faced Solona once again. “This Sten might appear to be docile and intelligent, but he is a monster.”

Solona was unfazed.

“Don’t worry. We can handle him, Revered Mother. Helping us will be no reward.”

“Solona, I think we should listen to the Rev-“ Cullen said, but was cut short by Solona.

“Hush. We can deal with him. We have you and we have Alistair and Leliana’s not so bad either. We also have two mages.”

“Revered Mother, the Wardens are in position to control him if needed be. He will be in good hands.” Leliana assured the elder.

“Just take the key already. I hope I don’t hear about any more victims of this monster.”

Solona took the key and pocketed it. She left no room for discussion as she went ahead to leave the Chantry. Cullen bit his tongue while inside the Chantry, but once outside of it… Was she truly thinking of allowing a murderer join them?

Cullen pulled Solona aside by the arm, though she set herself free.

“What are you thinking?!” he demanded. “He murdered a family, Solona.”

“We still need help. Seven men in a tavern will be just the beginning, and however skilled we are, we can only do so much.”

The fact she was so calm and resolute infuriated Cullen further.

“Are you out of your mind? He’s a murderer!” he yelled.

“So are you!” Solona yelled right back. “How much innocent mage blood stains your hands, hm? Do I still not treat you with respect and, by the Maker, do I not like you, regardless? Why would it be any different with Sten? He at least knows what he has done is wrong and is looking for atonement. You think you are doing the Maker’s work!”

The difference between their heights was minimal, and Solona was clearly not intimidated by Cullen. He had his sword, but she had her magical powers, and was no longer bound to the Circle.

There was truth to Solona’s words, but back then, Cullen was too enraged to absorb them. Still, out of his mind as he was, he gathered the will to settle down. Fighting Solona was not something he wanted.

“Do as you wish.” he said. “But you don’t have my approval.”

“Good thing I don’t need it.” Solona replied with an icy glare.

OoOoO

Several hours of silent travel later, the dusk came upon them and they set up camp. Not only they had Sten and Leliana, they also had a dwarf merchant and his son with them. Cullen wondered just how many people Solona would gather if they visited a couple of places more.

With the new addition to the group, they were short of one tent.

Cullen hadn’t even minded that fact until Solona approached him by the fire~after they were all fed and bathed, heading off to sleep. The first turn watching the camp was his.

“Cullen? I need to talk to you.”

He was still sore by the fact she thought him to be a murderer, so he replied: “What would you have to talk to me?”

“I want… Look, we are both on our edge here. I don’t want to be in bad terms. I like you and enjoy your company. Your concerns are not baseless, either, so I want a truce.”

“We were never at war to begin with. It’s not my place to interfere with Warden matters. Do as you please. I am sure you already know that.”

Solona sighed.

“Have you changed your mind about me?”

“Never. I thought you changed your mind about me instead.” Cullen said softly.

It took him a great deal of effort to not say the foul things running through his mind when they argued. Once he calmed down, he was glad he didn’t say them. However disagreeable Solona was at times, Cullen didn’t want to hurt her, and, in fact, it truly wasn’t his place to dispute her decisions as a Warden.

He had to trust Solona.

“If so, then perhaps you will consider the idea of sharing a tent with me. We are short of one tent now that Sten came along. Alistair offered his tent, too, just in case.”

She wasn’t wearing her Circle robes, but her new sleeping clothes, which consisted mainly of a man’s tunic. The thin fabric did not truly hid Solona’s habit of never wearing anything to support her small breasts. Cullen was glad the robes at the Circle had thicker fabric.

“He doesn’t look half as good in a tunic.” he commented sheepishly, suppressing a grin.

“I’m aware.” Solona laughed. She gave Cullen a peck on the lips before heading to her – their – tent.

The couple of hours of his watch dragged by endlessly. Solona still had a candle lit inside the tent and, given her shadow, was reading a book with her stomach down. When Cullen wasn’t trying to keep his focus on check, he was anticipating the moment when he would get to join her.

Alistair surfaced from his tent, then, fully armored and carrying his sword. He sat by the fire and said, displeased: “You can go. You aren’t doing much to watch the camp if you are only looking at one place.”

Anything Cullen said would make it worse, so he left without a word, any embarrassment he could have clouded by the ravenous urges of his flesh. Once he got inside the tent, Solona rolled to her back and propped herself up with her elbows, folding her legs. The display of bare buttocks had to be on purpose.

“Do you want help with the armor?” she asked.

“I would like that.” he replied, hoping to sound as confident as she did.

Solona put out the candle and gladly followed Cullen’s instructions regarding the multiple straps and buckles of the armor, and once it was piled up in a corner, Cullen did not break the dynamic. He followed her lead the first time, but this time he was comfortable enough with initiating and exploring her with his mouth and fingers.

When they both ran out of stamina, Solona snuggled to his chest and drifted off right after. Her slow breathing calmed him down, and even troubled by the lack of lyrium, Cullen managed to fall asleep, though he woke up some time later with Solona thrashing around in his arms.

“No… No…!” she mumbled, still in her sleep.

Cullen kissed her face to wake her up.

“Solona? Are you alright?”

She opened her eyes and stood up, searching around for her robes.

“I have to…”

Solona was clothed within a moment and left. Cullen put on his own clothes and went after her, just to find her going to Alistair’s tent.

Cullen closed his eyes for just a moment, and his thoughts were filled with images of Alistair and Solona. It was pure agony, seeing another man touching her, even if just in his own mind. For a moment there, he even forgot Solona had slept with him at all, and instead she had spent her night with Alistair.

The reality and time melted away as all he could feel was pain and jealousy.

She’s only going to Alistair because he’s a Warden, Cullen reminded himself. She spent the night with you. Keep yourself together.

He went back inside his tent, wondering how long he would remain sane enough to remember not to fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex scenes are always funny because Cullen is bragging about getting laid with the Hero of Ferelden.


	8. The Royal Bastard

Travelling wasn’t nearly as comfortable as staying at Kinloch Hold, not to mention the complete lack of lyrium, but Cullen dreaded the day when they made it close to the Redcliffe village. It meant that, in less than a week, he’d be back at the Circle, and Solona would be gone.

Cullen knew it had to be that way: his place was not with the Grey Wardens, and how could he ever ask of Solona to abandon it all? She finally seemed to be at peace with herself. The food was terrible, the tents were too thin, they had to travel long distances on foot, but she was content. There was no way to deny that.

Alistair would be quite helpless without her, too, and if Solona ever went away, it would be a death sentence to all of Ferelden.

On the other hand, Cullen’s feelings swayed from reasonable to irrational and close to uncontrollable. The lyrium withdrawal messed with his memories, and made his self-control and rational thinking drop to zero, at times.

Such as the night before their arrival.

The darkness was too dense for them to make the last stretch to Redcliffe during the night, so they set up camp in a clearing. So far, so good. Cullen was feeling somewhat sorrowful given the circumstances, but nothing outside the bounds of reason. Not yet.

It all started when Cullen was setting up their tent. Solona and Alistair were nearby, and he entertained her with a story about his early days as a Warden; he had a way of making her laugh that Cullen had not yet mastered.

Cullen stopped what he was doing and clenched his fists. He was back at the Circle once more, watching a hallway, and Solona walked past, in a hurry, almost running. His legs moved against his will, leading him the way she went.

She walked, faster and faster, but he caught up with her. Their steps made no sound against the stone.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m running away from this place.” Solona replied, her voice distant. “From you.”

He grabbed her arm forcefully, making her stop, and demanded: “Why? I love you! Why would you run away from me?”

In reply, she laughed and freed herself from his grasp.

“You really think I’d do anything but despise you? You are a Templar. I could never have feelings for you. Your existence is utterly abhorrent.”

Cullen felt pure rage rising up his throat like foul bile, and he slapped her face hard, with the back of his hand. The iron of the gauntlet hit her jaw with a loud crack, and Solona fell on the floor. She grinned wickedly at him, her jaw already swollen, flashing her teeth red from the blood in her mouth. 

“See? You are a monster.”

He stepped towards her, ready to give her a kick to the guts, when a louder voice spoke: “Cullen? Are you feeling well?”

“Go away!” he snarled back at the voice that belonged to no one but was all too familiar. And then Cullen was in a camp, in front of a half set tent. Solona was a couple of steps away from him, in one piece but wide-eyed.

“Cullen?” she whispered. “W-what’s happening? I’ve been trying to make you respond for minutes now.”

Confused as he was, the rage still ate through him.

“You know what’s happening! Where am I? Where have you taken me?”

“You came here willingly. Did you forget that?”

“You—“ he was going to spit out something awful, though yet another voice interrupted him.

“To be fair, he handled it just fine for much longer that what I would have expected. Templars are worth nothing once you take away their lyrium. He’s hallucinating, and may get quite violent if we are not careful.”

As suddenly as the rage came, it went away, when Cullen finally came to his senses. The other voice belonged to Morrigan, who was standing between him and Solona.

Actual bile rose in his throat as he vividly remembered slapping Solona’s face and breaking her jaw, the sound of the bone snapping apart ringing on his ears. He ran away to empty his stomach at the borders of the clearing, the bitter taste of digested food making him even sicker, even though everything he ate was already on the ground of the forest.

Through his heavy plate, Cullen barely felt the touch of a hand massaging his back. He could tell it was Solona, and he warned, wiping his mouth: “Don’t touch me.”

“I—“ She paused and stepped away. “I’m sorry.”

Cullen turned to her with a heavy heart. She sounded and looked so disappointing, that he felt disgusting, and not just because he had just thrown up.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just… I’m afraid I’ll hurt you. I guess you don’t really know what happens to Templars if they go on without lyrium for long. It’s not something we advertise.”

“You’ve been off lyrium for over a week! Why didn’t you tell me something like this could happen? We actually have lyrium, you know? It’s not much, and it’s not Templar lyrium, but still…”

“The lyrium we have is for you and Morrigan. If you run out of mana in a battle, or if someone gets hurts and you need to heal them, you’ll need lyrium and it will be a life and death problem. Me? I can handle myself. Mostly. But I should have told you when I first realized it would become a problem.”

“I can heal just fine without lyrium, Cullen. You can have what we’ve got and… Well, I guess we’ll have to get back to the Circle as soon as we can, then.”

“I was hoping…” Cullen sighed. “I was hoping I could stay a little longer. Without lyrium. Without really following direct orders from the Knight-Commander.”

Solona wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to put you through this misery. Just sit down for a while, try to calm down and I’ll get some lyrium and water for you. Alright?”

Defeated, Cullen nodded. He stumbled away to a log fallen nearby the fire, and sat there with his head buried in his hands, focusing on the sound of the cracking wood, and the warmth of the flames, but even then he was not totally in the present. Next thing he knew, Solona was feeding him fresh water.

She held a flask in the other hand, a blue glimmer emanating from it.

Cullen pushed the bowl away from his lips as gently as possible.

“I was hurting you. In my head.” he confessed in a mutter.

“Outside your head you were just staring at a distance.” Solona told him and offered the flask. “This should help.”

Cullen accepted it and, with much effort, took only a small sip. It was like he had been thirsty for so long he got used to the feeling, but as soon as lyrium touched his tongue, the urge flooded right back. The lyrium they had would never quench the thirst, so he put the flask away.

The urge might have gotten stronger, though so did his sanity. The ground seemed more solid under his feet, and the smells got much sharper, however not overwhelmingly so. For the first time in a long while, Cullen looked at Solona and actually saw her. Her freckles, the sharp angles of her face, her mess of a hair... Everything.

“Maker’s breath, you are beautiful.” Cullen mumbled, tucking some strands of the black hair of hers behind her ear.

“Are you saying this because I gave you lyrium?”

“It’s just… I see you now. I had almost forgotten how much I like your face.”

She leaned towards him: “I hope you are ready to be impressed when I get naked. You should probably rinse your mouth a bit more, though. There is still a bit of vomit at the corners.”

Cullen snatched the bowl of water from her hands and did as she told him right away, blushing.

“The vomiting was a disgusting thing for you to see. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve dealt with sick children. They usually don’t have the discretion of turning the other way.” she said, impassive.

Cullen wrinkled his nose at the observation.

“I didn’t know you took care of the children at the Circle.”

“Sometimes. I try to tell them what I wish to have known when I was taken. It so happens that they might be sick and might end up throwing up on you.” Solona stood up and kissed Cullen’s forehead. “You go wash yourself while I set up the tent. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“Naked?”

“It’s something to consider.”

OoOoO

Perhaps taking second grade lyrium didn’t feel much better than keep going without it, but at least Cullen knew he wouldn’t be out of his mind. The chance of him hallucinating and perhaps hurting someone was slimmer, and it made controlling the urge to drink all of the lyrium available easy, in comparison.

He almost cheerfully accompanied the group to Redcliffe, fingers entwined with Solona’s.

“This is a rather interesting way to watch a mage, Templar.” Sten observed after a while, his tone as dead pan as always, though the irony was clear.

Sten’s presence still unnerved Cullen a bit. The Qunari was a perfect killing machine, with his extra height and massive bulk; his mouth only opened to say something rude or condescending. How come Solona managed to engage him in private, Cullen did not know. And how come Sten had not yet killed them all, armed with a particularly fine greatsword and chainmail armor, he didn’t know either.

“I think I know how to do my job, Qunari.” Cullen snapped. “Solona is still here, after all.”

“This is a disaster waiting to happen. What will you do if she becomes an abomination?”

“If so, I’ll be glad to die by his hands. I’ll be already gone, anyway.” Solona said.

“That is just the kind of romantic talk couples should have!” Alistair chimed in, then. “The situations where is alright for one to kill the other.”

Solona laughed at his comment, but that time it did not bother Cullen in the slightest. Perhaps it was the lyrium, perhaps it was the fact she was holding his hand. The group remained in silence for a while, and Alistair broke it:

“Redcliffe is not far, now. Well, I guess I should just… Solona, can we talk? In private?”

They stopped and Solona followed Alistair to a spot far from hearing range. Cullen did not know what to do or say, now that he was left alone with the rest of the group without Solona’s presence.

“You are coping with the situation well, all things considered.” Leliana offered. “Solona seems very committed with her cause. It must hard to know you must follow separate paths.”

Morrigan scoffed.

“That’s what he gets for choosing to be a Chantry pet. Templars are nothing more than dogs, trained to do the Chantry’s bidding.”

“Templars are not dogs, Morrigan.” Cullen replied. He knew better than being angry at her for saying such things, however.

“You certainly behave like one. The extremes Templars go to make sure they get their daily lyrium is astonishing. I might even understand the need of lyrium, but is it not funny the Chantry doesn’t seem interested in making it as little addicting as possible? Face it, you are trained like wardogs, and lyrium is your meat.” Morrigan said. “You are beasts, nothing more.”

“Very compelling argument. I wonder if you repeat it to yourself at night so you can sleep in peace after killing the Templars you claim to have killed.”

Morrigan and Cullen could get along well, at times, but more often than not, they were bickering at each other. He tried not to hold the fact she was a Witch of the Wilds against her, but she certainly berated him for being a Templar whenever possible.

“And what do you say to yourself at night to justify all those mages you have killed, abused and tortured with no good reason?”

Cullen didn’t have an answer for the question. Gladly, he was saved from having to reply it because Solona and Alistair returned.

“I think there is something Alistair needs to tell you all before we continue.” she said to everyone.

“Do we really have to do this?”

“It’s important, yes. You could solve all of our problems, right now. Aren’t you a Warden? Don’t you want us to be able to fight against the Blight?”

“I… Yes, but… I was wondering if there was no other way to do it. That didn’t involve me in a position to ruin everything.”

“Stop being such a whiny baby, Alistair. Solona, just say it, or else we’ll be stuck in here for a long time.” Morrigan said, impatient.

“Well, as it turns out… Alistair was raised by Arl Eamon because his father is King Maric. Not only he is a bastard, but also a royal bastard.”

“Solona, please…” the royal bastard himself begged in a low voice.

Thinking about it, Alistair did look like deceased King. And it was, in fact, very fortunate that they had a potential heir to the throne among them. Without Alistair, Queen Anora was at her rightful place. She chose to put Loghain as Regent, and the only way out would be to appeal to her sentiments.

But with another Heir, with royal blood no less…

“This means Alistair can be on the throne and punish Loghain for his betrayal.” Solona went on.

“And does no one even want to know if I want to do this? No?”

“If we act solely on the basis of what we want to do, I think none of us would be here.” Cullen replied. “You might not consider you have a duty with Ferelden as of now, but you have one with the Grey Wardens. No one gets to pick and choose which sacrifices they must make.”

“Let’s just make sure Arl Eamon doesn’t die first, then we can discuss this.” Alistair said.

Solona threw a quick glance at Cullen, rolled her eyes minutely and replied: “And we will get to the same conclusion, Alistair…”

OoOoO

“I’ve heard stories of what happened at the Landsmeet.” Cullen said. “I take it Solona dragged Alistair to the throne and sat him there.”

“That is what Leliana told me, though perhaps not with these words.” the Seeker replied.

“Have you asked Alistair where Solona is? They kept in touch with each other, I am certain. She was the Warden-Commander, was she not?”

“Yes, that is correct, but The King doesn’t know where she is, either.”

“Solona is an admirable woman, in some ways. Duty is of utmost importance for her, so she wouldn’t just disappear like this for nothing. She probably has a good reason to, and is not coming back until she sees fit.”

“Still, I must try. If she agrees into being the Inquisitor, we would have full support of the King. Perhaps the Wardens don’t meddle with political matters, but there is no denying she has great political influence in Ferelden.”

Cullen laughed.

“That’s a nice way to say Alistair would do anything Solona asked of him.”

“Would he?”

“Yes, he would. That’s how I know Ferelden is in good hands.”

“You still hold her in high regard.” The Seeker observed.

“In the end, she does what is necessary. We just have different ideas about the definition of the word, at times.”


	9. Redcliffe

If Cullen thought they couldn’t possibly run into any more trouble, he was terribly wrong. After the not very small disagreement with Alistair, as soon as the group set foot in Redcliffe’s entrance, a man with a longbow ran to them.

“Travelers! You must help us!”

“Calm down.” Solona said. “We indeed came to help. What is happening?”

“The castle has been silent for days now. Every single night, terrible creatures come out of the castle and raid the village. We are growing weaker and weaker, and we might not live through the night.”

“That is strange. I didn’t think we would find any darskpawn around here. At least not yet.” Alistair said.

“They are not darkspawn. They are…” The man took a deep breath. “Well, they are corpses. Of people we know. Men of the guard.”

Cullen immediately frowned, switching his position. He didn’t mean to frighten the man, but reanimated corpses coming from the castle meant either a malign blood mage or an abomination were inside the castle. For all he knew, the Arl’s corpse could be in between the army of terrible creatures.

“And how are the people holding up?” Cullen asked.

“We are all holed up in the Chantry right now. It’s the strongest building we have. Bann Teagan is there, trying to lead the forces and keep us together. I’ll take you to him. He’ll be happy to know we have assistance.”

The man turned around and started making his way to the Chantry. Cullen enjoyed the opportunity to silently mouth to Solona: Blood magic. Not good.

Her expression grew grim, and she looked ahead, a line deep settled between her eyebrows.

“Are we going to stop and help everyone in our way?” Sten questioned.

Solona had run out of patience to deal with Sten: “We’ll try to help as many people as we can, yes. Fighting the Blight doesn’t mean just slashing away darkspawn without looking where we are headed. We need the Arl’s help, and for that, we need the village standing. So we’ll help. If you don’t want to come, just head right back to the camp.”

Sten didn’t look very pleased, but kept following, this time with his mouth shut. The more Cullen got to know Solona, the more he realized she owned a very persuasive tongue. Her feelings were genuine, and she had a point, but it took more than true feelings to convince people like that. 

At the yard in front of the Chantry, men tried to gather barricades and roughly fix broken weapons. They looked beyond tired and hopeless. A low morale could kill a whole troop more certainly than broken weapons would; perhaps there was an actual chance the village wouldn’t make it through the night.

Inside, the Chantry in Redcliffe was not unlike the Chantry in Lothering: full of people, the smell of sweat making the air heavy. The smell bothered Cullen more than it bothered most. The second grade lyrium he had been taking could only do so much, and he was perpetually in the stage where his sensations threatened to swallow him whole.

Focusing was somewhat hard, but better than the alternative of being out his mind, punching people based on memories that did not happen, not to mention the vomiting afterwards.

The group followed the villager towards the man in the back that seemed to be in charge; noblemen were never hard to spot. They had a way of standing tall and proud no one else could possibly hope to imitate. His clothes still seemed of fine quality, even dirty and torn as they were.

“Bann Teagan, I found these travelers by the road. They said they came to help.”

“That is wonderful news.” he said, apparently not minding their disheveled state.

“Bann Teagan.” Alistair greeted the man with familiarity, though the Bann didn’t seem to recognize him. “You might not remember me. Last time we talked, I was covered in mud, but I do remember you.”

The Bann frowned for just a split of second, and then his face relaxed enough for him to grin.

“Alistair! And here was I thinking I’d never see you again.”

“I’m with the Grey Wardens now. Well, I’m one of the two left in Ferelden, anyway. We came to help however we can.”

“I would be the second Warden. It is a pleasure meeting you.” Solona said. 

“Oh, I am sorry, my lady, for not making the introductions. I am Bann Teagan, brother to the Arl. May I know your name?”

Solona raised an eyebrow at “my lady”. Either she liked it or not, she did behave like a proper lady when required. She came from a noble family after all, and at the Circle, the mages were given etiquette classes by their elders.

“I am no lady. I am Solona, a mage of the Circle and now a Grey Warden.”

“Every woman deserves to be treated as such.” the Bann replied, smiling pleasantly. “And who are those travelling with you?”

“This is Sten. Yes, he is a Qunari, but he doesn’t bite. Well, there is also Morrigan and Leliana, they have agreed to come with us to help, and we have Cullen, a Templar from the Circle who is currently keeping tabs on me.”

“And what have you done to grant your own personal guard?”

Solona paused for a moment, picking her words.

“Let’s just say I didn’t leave the Circle in friendly terms with the Knight-Commander. The same reason why I became a Grey Warden.”

The Bann nodded and changed the subject to more pressing matters: “Teyrn Loghain would have us believe the Wardens betrayed the King at battlefield. I suppose it is not true.”

“Everyone who fought at the battle is dead. He’s only alive because he pulled out his troops, and we are only alive because we were never at the battlefield to begin with. But... I hear there is a problem we have to deal with before managing to talk to the Arl, is that correct?”

“Yes, it is. The attacks started a few nights ago. First, the Arl became gravely ill and then the castle… It seemed empty. No one guarded it, no one responded to my shouts. Then the creatures poured out of it, every single night. Many of us perished already. I don’t know much longer we’ll be able to defeat the hordes.”

Cullen had to appreciate the Bann’s courage, staying in the Chantry with the commoners to protect them, and his genuine distress over the village being decimated. Solona seemed quite touched, too.

“Nightfall is not too far away. We can stay here and help, in the morning we’ll try to find a way to get into the castle. How does that sound to you?”

“Perfect.”

They were given a small list of tasks they could try and accomplish until then, including finding a dwarf merchant and his men, and convincing the village’s blacksmith to open the forge and to repair armor and weapons. Alistair and Sten set off to find the dwarf, while Leliana volunteered to talk to the blacksmith.

To Morrigan, Cullen and Solona, the task left was to talk to Ser Perth, and see what else could be done that the Bann was not aware of. Ser Perth was by the mill, a long way from the village.

“And here was I thinking we would never make a good use of you, Cullen.” Morrigan said, mockingly, once they were alone. “There is either a blood mage or an abomination inside the castle. We have to consider ourselves lucky if we find the Arl with life.”

“I am not counting on it…” Solona replied. “If the Arl isn’t alive, our only option will be to convince Alistair to announce his position as the bastard heir of the throne. We would have to do it anyhow, but without the Arl, it will be much bloodier.”

“You think he will be easily convinced?”

“I hope to the Maker that, yes, he will accept it. It would be incredibly stupid of him not to use his royal blood to solve our problem with Loghain. He won’t refuse; I’ll make certain of it.”

“My, you scare me when you talk like this. I like it.”

Cullen remained quiet. He agreed that Alistair had to take the throne as King, but he wasn’t so sure about forcing Alistair to do it, how Solona seemed to imply.

She truly was committed to her cause.

OoOoO

The castle loomed over in the distance, still, as if no breathing creature ever been there. The chill air of the morning cut Cullen’s face, and even through the armor.

“It’s been this way for days.” Bann Teagan said. “I worry if—No, nevermind.”

The village made it through the worst attack yet, and after a small ceremony for the dead before dawn, the group and the Bann headed to the mill, in hopes of getting inside the castle and saving whoever might still be alive inside.

“So how exactly are we planning to get inside?” Alistair questioned.

The Bann turned to face him.

“You see, I—Maker’s breath!”

Just a moment later, they heard steps coming down the way to the castle, accompanied by aa heavy breathing.

“Teagan!” said a feminine voice with a distinct Orlesian accent.

“Lady Isolde! You are alive. I was nearly certain all of you were dead!”

A blonde woman in a fine dress approached Teagan and hugged him earnestly.

“You must come with me! A great evil took over the castle! We don’t have much time!”

“How about… We all go inside?” Solona said. “I am not very keen on letting the only authority at hand go all alone inside a cursed castle with no promise of return.”

Lady Isolde’s face – Arl Eamon’s wife, it seemed – turned harsh as she appeared to take notice of them standing right there. How come she didn’t see them before, considering she came from the way right behind them, was beyond Cullen.

“Who are you supposed to be?”

“Lady Isolde, you might not remember me. I’m Alistair and I’m a Grey Warden. Solona is, too. We are trying to help.” Alistair said, in a grave tone.

“Well, then. I don’t care about what you plan to do, but Teagan must come. After last night’s attack, I managed to reason with it and it let me come for him. Just him, for Connor’s sake. Please, Teagan…!”

“It?” Cullen questioned. “What is this it we are talking about?”

“I do not know for sure. All I know is that a mage from the castle’s staff has been poisoning the Arl, and unleashed a great evil inside the castle. It started killed everyone, but left us alive. For now. Teagan, you must come!”

“Isolde, I’m coming with you. Just allow me to confer with the Wardens in private for a moment.” Teagan said.

“Yes. Sure. I’ll be by the bridge.”

She left, and Alistair sighed in relief.

“At least the Arl is still alive.”

“We don’t know for sure if he’ll remain that way for very long… Like I intended to say before Lady Isolde came, the castle has a secret entrance only my family has access to. I didn’t say anything about it before because you might have wanted to go in the castle before securing the village, and I couldn’t take that risk. I am sorry if this makes you think lowly of me.”

“Not at all.” Solona said, though Sten scowled indicating it was not the case for everyone.

Teagan took a heavy ring out of his finger, and handed it to Solona, holding on to her hand a bit longer than Cullen would find advisable.

“You can’t be truly thinking of walking right into this trap, can you?” she went on.

“I have to. Use it to get into the castle, through the mill. I’ll try to create a diversion so you can go unnoticed. You must get Eamon, and take him out of the castle if needed be. Everyone else is expendable. Me, Lady Isolde, Connor…”

“I’ll try to save everyone. If it’s a blood mage or a demon, Cullen, Morrigan and I can find a way to get rid of it. And get rid of the mage that has been poisoning the Arl.”

Bann Teagan sighed softly.

“You are as brave as you are beautiful. The Maker smiled upon me when He brought you my way.” Cullen’s jaw twitched as Solona smiled at the compliment. “Ser Perth and his knights will be by the gates. You must open them as soon as you are able.”

“Of course.”

She took the lead towards the mill, and once they were out of ear shot from the Bann – who was still watching Solona go, by the way --, Cullen said, through his teeth: “Teagan is a very friendly man.”

“I suppose it is a way to describe him. I’m sorry for that, Cullen. I just can’t afford to be rude.”

“I…” he sighed. “You are right.”

She often was. Plus, Cullen reasoned, in a less than week whatever they had with each other would be over. He wasn’t in position to stop her from flirting with other men, or to demand her to flat out refuse their advances.

It was good enough that Solona didn’t resent him for not abandoning everything for her; not once she implied Cullen wasn’t strong enough for not being able to go without lyrium and not running off with her to fight against the Blight.

He couldn’t. He just couldn’t, and he had to deal with the consequences of it, one of which was accepting her involvement with other people. They couldn’t belong to each other, and Cullen doubted Solona even wanted to belong to anyone: that explained why she got intimate with a Templar who would soon leave, instead of being with anyone else with a more permanent stay in her new life.

The reasoning behind her life choices was obscure, at times. It was not the time to ponder about that.

Once they were inside the mill, Leliana quickly found the hidden trapdoor with a strange lock whose dents fit just right with the signet in Teagan’s ring. Solona stood at the edge of the staircase leading underground, and leaned over to look into the seemingly endless darkness.

“This won’t be pretty.” she muttered.

Sten snorted in response.

“Nothing ever is.”


	10. A Templar's Job

Sten’s were the last words spoken before they entered the trap door that led into stairs and a long underground corridor. For a long time, the only sound was of their steps, their breathing and Sten’s cussing whenever he hit his head on the low ceiling.

The corridor came into an end on what seemed to be the basement of the castle, an old room with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and broken armors. Solona led them through the only door available; they ended up in a room with six corpses, so decomposed that they were falling apart, but the corpses charged against the group anyway.

It was not even close to a problem. They were fairly well rested and fed, all their limbs firmly attached. A few spells from Solona and Morrigan, all the corpses were chunks of brown and deep red ice on the floor.

“I wonder how much more of them we will find.” Alistair commented.

“Not many.” Cullen said. “These are real corpses. I think most of them perished when they attached the village, and no one got inside the castle, that we are aware of anyway. We won’t have much trouble. With the corpses, at least.”

The other room was bigger but no more interesting. There was just filth and corpses, the putrid smell nauseating Cullen more than it normally would; he was the first to leave the room, though the following room didn’t smell any nicer. It was, in fact, the dungeon, with all its cells seemingly empty.

“I hope the whole castle isn’t smelling like this.” he complained with a scowl.

“I see you have a very sensitive nose, Templar.” Morrigan observed. There were many ill-intentioned remarks she could have made and somehow she only exposed her curiosity. Cullen, in return, decided to indulge her.

“Everything smells worse when you don’t take good lyrium. It’s distracting.”

Alistair had a witty remark at ready: “So this is how Templars handle each other’s stench. And here I was wondering what was so great about lyrium.”

“Do I smell worse?” Solona asked, following Alistair’s mockery.

They would have probably continued in that inappropriate, light-hearted banter if it wasn’t for a weak voice, coming from the last cell in the opposite side of the room.

“H-hello? Solona, is that you?”

She stopped on her tracks. Her head tilted slightly to a side, and a line formed between her eyebrows, as her lips pressed against each other.

“Jowan?” she called, then took cautious steps towards the source of the sound. Cullen followed her. Perhaps his reflexes were slower than usual thanks to the overpowering smell, but he didn’t take long to put the pieces together: Jowan was the blood mage Isolde talked about.

“Solona…!” Jowan sighed. “I am so relieved to see you. Please, you have to get me out of here.”

“I don’t think so.” Cullen replied, standing right beside Solona. “You were the responsible for this, weren’t you?”

“I—“

“Jowan, please don’t try to lie to me now. I know what you’ve done already. I’ve fought the very corpses you brought back to life, and I know you were the one who poisoned the Arl.” Solona said.

“I did, but I… I was so desperate! All alone, without Lily, being hunted down by Templars… Lady Isolde offered the opportunity to tutor her son and I took it.”

Solona was not moved by Jowan’s story, and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Did she offer you the opportunity to poison the Arl too?”

Cullen was actually proud they were not standing in opposite sides in this; she was a reasonable woman after all.

“I saw one of Loghain’s agents. He offered me money until the day of my death and protection. I couldn’t say no to that. I am not like you, Solona. I am not brave.”

“That I can see.”

“Wait a minute…” said Alistair. “Tutor her son? Why would she hire a runaway mage to tutor her son?”

“Connor has shown signs of magical abilities. Lady Isolde hoped I could teach him enough magic to hide it; not even the Arl knew his son was a mage. I was already locked up when the killings began. This was Connor’s doing, but Lady Isolde doesn’t want to believe it. She even had me tortured.”

Cullen felt nothing but contempt towards Jowan. He deserved a sword through his gut right then: lying to a friend of his and putting her into deep trouble, then running away and accepting bribes to kill a very respectable and just man. As he explained the situation with a heavy heart, as if though he was the victim of a terrible tragedy, Cullen wanted to spit on his face.

Alas, he didn’t, and Solona decided for him what would be of Jowan for the moment.

“Alright, then. You’ll stay here until we find a way out of this mess, and I can’t promise you’ll walk out of here alive. You certainly don’t deserve to.”

She turned on her heels and resumed their walk towards the upper levels of the castle.

“Did you know him from the Circle?” Leliana inquired to Solona. “You never truly told me anything about how you left the Circle, or about your life there.”

“Well, you see, Jowan was one of my closest friends, if not the best.” She told her tale with a tone void of any discernible emotion. “Shortly after I was Harrowed, we made plans to escape together, me, Jowan and his lover. We got caught and he used blood magic to take down the Templars, but even I couldn’t run away with a Maleficar. So I let him go, and I stayed, though obviously I had to be punished. Being a Warden is my punishment.”

“You seem to be enjoying your punishment, then.”

“It is the lesser of the evils. I wish I didn’t have to be risking my neck to earn my freedom of the Circle, but…”

Whenever Solona talked about the Circle and her life as a mage, Cullen couldn’t help but feeling touched. It embarrassed him to even think she was the first mage he ever considered to be a whole person. Mages were beasts the Templars had to tame in iron and blood.

It was not so to him anymore. Mages like Jowan deserved rightful punishment, yes, but it was no different than punishing murderers and thieves who killed plenty of people just as well with their own swords, daggers and bare hands.

In watchful silence, they found their way to the courtyard. Solona rushed to pull the lever that opened the gates: an arcane horror leaded a small troop of corpses, waiting for the time when the knights would try to come through. They didn’t consider, however, that the knights would be getting extra help.

Getting rid of the horror was easier with Cullen’s resistance to taking its magical blows and diverting its attention from the knights. Perhaps his performance would have been better if he was in better conditions, but it worked just as well.

Leliana and Morrigan dealt with the skeleton archers shooting at them from the top of the staircase leading to the front door of the castle, and Solona offered support to destroy the melee skeletons with elemental spells for damage, and healing spells for the knights and Cullen himself.

Cullen was glad to see Sten was protecting Solona’s back, and very well at that. A single swing from his greatsword meant three or four less corpses getting close to Solona. Again, Cullen had to be impressed with Solona’s ability of making allies. He had himself offered to let her run away, or even go with her, and Sten, whenever he opened his mouth, had something harsh or condescending to say, and still he protected her, even though he didn’t have to do that.

The deal was what he would help the Wardens fight against the Blight, not be her personal bodyguard during battles.

In the end, the battle was short-lived; the corpses’ numbers were indeed too thin to make up for a real threat. Ser Perth insisted the knights went inside along with the group, but Solona put her foot down and refused. The demon was still inside the castle and she didn’t want to risk feeding it even more corpses.

Before they opened the front door, Solona gave Cullen an extra flask of lyrium.

“We’ll need you in good shape.” she told him, very seriously. It was not a request, nor a suggestion. It was an order. You are a Templar, Cullen, she was saying. Do your job.

That he intended to do, so he took the lyrium in one big sip. A sense of utter calmness washed over him, the noises and smells quieted down instantly. Since it was not the ideal lyrium, that feeling would go away soon enough, giving place to an itch he couldn’t scratch, but a whole flask of it should buy Cullen at least a couple of good hours.

“I’m good. Let’s go.”

On command, Alistair opened the front doors and they stepped in a quiet entrance hall. The silence was not absolute, but the stillness of the air was, as if it mourned the people who died in the castle. The laughter and clapping of a boy echoed in the empty halls, a hysterical laughter Cullen only heard coming from madmen.

The laughter came to an abrupt end when the group reached the room where Teagan danced like a jester, clearly under mind control, in front of Lady Isolde and a young boy Cullen supposed to be Connor. Teagan sat on the floor beside the boy like a servant, a stupid smiled stamped on his face; Teagan’s eyes looked around without a focus.

“Who are those, mother? Haven’t I told you to only bring Teagan?” he said in a voice far too deep for a child his age, his brows brought together in contempt and disgust.

“I didn’t know they would come! Connor, please…!” Lady Isolde begged. “Stop this madness.”

“If he doesn’t…” said Cullen. “We will. He is clearly possessed by a demon.”

“Possessed…?” Connor’s voice was no longer deep. Instead it sounded feminine, seductive. “He was not possessed. He willingly made a deal with me to keep his father alive. Well, the Arl is alive, and I will use his body as I see fit.”

“Have you never wanted something so badly you’d do anything to have, hm? I bet she even has a name. Solona Amell.” The demon went on in its original voice. “Poor Cullen, watching her from afar all that time, lusting over her, and now she’s yours, but only for now. What wouldn’t you do to keep her forever?”

Cullen gritted his teeth and drew his sword.

“You chose the wrong man to tempt, demon. I will not listen to you.”

Connor suddenly went down on his knees, bringing his hand to his forehead.

“What’s happening?” he asked in a voice that sounded like his own. “Don’t listen to her! She will—“ The moment of clarity lasted only for a second. Connor rose again, and said: “Guards! Attack them!”

Cullen wanted to go after Connor, but there were too many guards standing between him and the exit the boy took. He stayed and fought through the guards like he never fought before, the lyrium boosting his concentration and reflexes. His sword drew arcs around him as he bashed and blocked with his shield in an impressive velocity.

Again, there was no real threat against the group. Not only Cullen could fight like a true Templar, Teagan also joined the fight as soon as the mind control went away. In the end, they stood in the center, the only area of the room not covered with bodies.

“Where did the boy go?” Cullen asked right away. “We need to get to him.”

“What do you plan to do to him?” Lady Isolde said, accusingly.

“I plan to do my job, my lady.”

“But you sure can’t be thinking about killing a child, can you, Cullen?” Leliana intervened. “He didn’t have any fault in this. He didn’t know what he was doing. Connor is just a boy.”

“Well, technically no blood would be spilled if we could find mages and lyrium so someone would go into the Fade and fight the demon there.” Alistair suggested.

Cullen snorted.

“So we would leave the village on its own while the demon was still here, attacking them every night? You can’t be truly thinking this is an option.”

“I don’t want to kill Connor, either.” Solona said. “We could use blood magic to enter the Fade. We’d need lots of blood and someone would have to die, but not Connor. Considering Lady Isolde started this whole mess by inviting a Maleficar into her own home, I suppose this is the way to go.”

“I’d… I’d do it. As long as Connor lives.” the Lady agreed, but Cullen did not.

“No one is going to use blood magic here, Solona. Bad things happen. You’ve seen it.”

“Jowan is here. He could do the ritual; he’s going to be made Tranquil soon enough anyway. What I don’t want to do is killing a child over an adult’s mistakes!” she argued. “All he wanted was to save his father. Connor couldn’t possibly know about the dangers.”

Cullen narrowed his eyes at Solona, and his response to her words was no different from his response to the demon’s pleas.

“There will be no blood magic, do you hear me? You might bend everyone with your charm, but you can’t bend me. Not about this. It has to be done.”

“If anyone wants my opinion, I agree with Cullen. Surprisingly enough.” Morrigan manifested herself.

“So do I.” Sten said. “The evil has to be cut from its root.”

Solona didn’t seem convinced, and Cullen went on: “My orders are not to interfere with Warden business, but this is not Warden business. It’s not your place to decide.”

“So it’s yours?” she sneered.

“I’m a Templar, aren’t I? In the absence of any Templar in higher rank than mine, I get to give out the orders. And the order here is to get Connor and eliminate him. I will not allow the use of blood magic, and I won’t let a whole village perish, either.”

Teagan cleared his throat.

“The matter is settled, then. I believe Connor went upstairs to the family quarters.”

“No! Teagan, please, talk to him…!” Lady Isolde begged, clinging into her brother-in-law. “Don’t let him kill Connor.”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Lady Isolde. I don’t have the authority. I am no Templar.”

“Cullen, you are out of your mind. Are you sure the lyrium isn’t—“ Solona tried to say, stepping in front of him, blocking his way.

“You are the one out of yours. I thought you didn’t approve of blood magic?”

“This is a special circumstance. Connor is not at fault here. He does not deserve to be punished.”

Solona was trying to talk Cullen out of it, he could tell. However, he had noticed before how persuasive she could be. She was smart, terribly so, and would aways pull out compelling arguments out of thin air. They weren’t always right, however.

She was wrong in this. Her persuasion would not work.

“I never claimed he did. Get out of my way, Solona. We don’t have time to waste.”

“Or what, Cullen? What will you do? Will you hurt me?”

“I am a Templar, and you are a Mage. It is my job to stop you from falling into corrupted practices. You know I will, if I must.”

“Enjoy yourself.” she muttered harshly, stepping aside.

“You have the wrong idea of me if you think I have any fun with this.” Cullen said to her and went towards the door Connor used to leave. Morrigan, Sten and Alistair quietly followed, but Leliana and Solona stayed behind.

Cullen wasn’t sure if he’d feel so terrible about hurting her anymore. It appalled him she tried to use him as her pawn, knowing very well he was still committed to the Order.

He wouldn’t be swayed from what was right so easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's wondering, my Solona Amell had Coercion skills ingame and a hell lot of cunning skills.


	11. Connor

Cullen didn’t have the time to process what just happened between him and Solona: as soon as they entered the room Connor went through after fleeing, the suits of armor standing about came to life and attacked them. Steel against heavy plate, Cullen slashed and slammed and kicked until the armors were torn to pieces on the floor, the anger rising up on him.

“Do you think Solona will ever forgive you for doing this?” Alistair asked, his breathing ragged from the effort of taking down creatures made of empty steel.

“I don’t need her forgiveness.” Cullen replied. “There is never a reason good enough to use blood magic. I will deal with her after I deal with the demon.”

It was no use fretting about the aftermath before even securing the castle. For all he knew, they might be about to face their deaths.

The demon was very powerful; the upper floor was caked with corpses that rose and went after them, coming from every possible room. Gladly they were harmless near Sten, since they didn’t have the space to be out of his slicing range. Morrigan’s stunning spells also came in handy.

After that problem was deal with, Cullen took the lead towards the room the corpses protected. It was a hall that connected many rooms, and Connor sat at the corner of it, knees to his chest, though he stood up as soon as Cullen opened the door.

“Go away! You’ll hurt me! The lady says you are bad.”

Morrigan raised a single eyebrow of hers.

“It seems Connor is back to his body…?”

“No.” Cullen replied. “The demon is letting him surface to try and slow me down. A young boy like him would never get the chance to fight against possession.”

And then Connor laughed, with the feminine voice of the demon, and said: “Well, I had to try. I dislike wasting my time, however…”

Connor knelt down and clawed at his head, his body turning into the image of the demon, a purple creature that resembled a woman. The demon’s mana reserves were deep, but Cullen drained enough to stop it from trying to summon yet more demons from the Fade. The desire demon was left with the few corpses at the corners of the room, which were quickly slain.

Cullen fully charged to the demon itself, ready to put his sword through its heart; the demon, sensing the defeat, retreated to the Fade, leaving Connor’s limp body on the room. The boy was still possessed and had to be eliminated, but putting a sword to a boy’s chest would tear him apart. Cullen put his sword away and drew his trusty dagger. A small stab to the heart and it would all be over.

It couldn’t be that simple. Lady Isolde barged into the room and threw herself at her son’s body, nearly convulsing as the sobs rocked her body.

“Please, don’t this! He’s just a boy!!”

“My lady, if you don’t back away while he is still—“

Lady Isolde put herself in her feet and confronted him: “You are a monster!!! I know what Templars do to mages at the Circle!!”

Cullen took a minimal step back. There were plenty of things Templars did to mages at the Circle, and some of them were not pretty. He couldn’t blame Isolde for not wanting to send her son away and having the misfortune of hiring an assassin to teach Connor, but… The damage was already done.

And by hesitating in front of Lady Isolde’s desperate cries, he was caving in to the demon’s plan. If it wasn’t powerful enough to defend itself, it could at least get other people to protect its link to their world – the boy.

“You leave me no choice.” Cullen mumbled before slapping Lady Isolde’s face so hard she fell unconscious. He heard Solona gasp at his back, by the door, though he wouldn’t allow himself to desist and be influenced by it.

He knelt down by Connor and quickly put the blade of his dagger across the boy’s chest. With a final gurgle of blood, the abomination was no more.

Cullen got back on his feet, hesitating to turn around and face Solona. The castle was secure. The time for the aftermath came, and there was no way to circumvent it. When he finally picked up the courage to turn on his heels, Solona was staring blankly at Lady Isolde and Connor’s body.

“We are safe now.” he said. “It’s over.”

She snapped out of her state and her lips curled in a slight disgusted sneer.

“Go tell Bann Teagan. I’ll try to wake Lady Isolde up and I’ll bring her downstairs.”

With a curt nod, Cullen left the room, his head hanging low in… Shame? Disappointment? His relationship with Solona had been smooth up until that point, the both of them quite aware about the limitations and their responsibilities as Templar and mage Warden.

He did not regret getting rid of the abomination and fulfilling his duty as a Templar. Somehow that caused him shame, all the while he was disappointed that Solona wouldn’t understand, and tried to use him as an obstacle to be managed. He thought Alistair was a dear friend of hers and even then, she wanted to force him to be King.

Solona could be terrifying. Then again, so could Cullen himself.

OoOoO

The couch of the guest room at the Redcliffe castle was ten times more comfortable than his bed at Kinloch Hold, and Sten’s snores and Alistair’s babbles weren’t nearly as inconvenient as the snores of tens of young men sleeping together, but Cullen couldn’t sleep.

Bann Teagan declared they could stay for the night so Lady Isolde could mourn her son and prepare for the ceremony at dawn, only after that they would talk business. Arl Eamon was alive, gladly, though still comatose.

And so the gentlemen got one guest room for themselves, and another was prepared for the ladies. Cullen would prefer to sleep on top of a thin bedroll with Solona resting her head on his chest, however… Even if they were to sleep at their camp, chances were she wouldn’t want to share the tent.

They didn’t speak to each other besides the strictly necessary, and her feelings were out of Cullen’s reach.

He eventually gave up on sleeping and put on a light shirt and boots to stroll around the castle, in hopes of exhausting himself to an hour or two of slumber, and walked out to see Solona leaning back against the wall right beside his door.

“Hello.” she said.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“A while. Didn’t know how to barge in discreetly. I didn’t come all this way to die because I woke up an enraged qunari…” A sigh. “I think we need to talk.”

“We… Do?”

Cullen didn’t want to talk about it as much as he wanted things to go back the way they used to be, even though Solona would never mean the same to him. Not after showing her true colors. He harbored deep feelings for her still, a unique mix of love, hatred and desire he could not ignore.

She shrugged.

“I don’t feel like discussing it, really. We both know our positions on this issue very well, and we both know it won’t change, so we could just let it slide. After this, we are heading to the Circle anyhow, and I doubt we’ll ever see each other again. Let’s not spoil the little time we have left.”

“Agreed.”

They got closer to each other, inch by inch, never breaking eye contact. Cullen was the first to reach out for a kiss, not sweet and not gentle. It was an act of pure of lust, and they devoured and bit at each other, bodies pressed together against the wall.

“Isn’t there any empty rooms inside this castle?” Cullen growled lowly against Solona’s neck, hands all over. The feeling of her breasts against him was a memory branded by fire on his skin.

“There is a study in this floor. Doesn’t belong to anyone, it seems.”

Solona led Cullen there, pulling him by the waist with a smirk across her lips. They barely had closed the door behind themselves before getting back to groping and kissing. There was a desk inside, but they didn’t look around enough to see it.

Cullen brought Solona’s robes to her waist and knelt down, putting a leg of hers over his shoulder. She grabbed a fistful of his hair, as he held her steady by the hips while she squirmed against his mouth, panting and gasping in pleasure. 

And once she was aroused enough, Cullen went back to a standing position and turned her around, so he could be inside her with his hands and lips free to grab and kiss whatever he wanted.

It was physically alleviating more than it was emotionally fulfilling. Nevertheless, Cullen went back to his room and slept well, knowing that even though their relationship had been deeply severed, at the very least they still had enough respect left to just seal the lid and never speak about it. 

The next morning, Alistair studied him with curious eyes as he woke up with great disposition. Going back to the Circle felt like a great idea, by then, and they would leave as their duties around Redcliffe were over, which was to say, they’d leave later that day.

Cullen didn’t pay attention to the ceremonies, and was not allowed inside when Alistair and Solona went to the Arl’s room to speak about what would be done now that the castle was safe and the Arl was still not conscious.

“Just so you know, we are going to Kinloch Hold first.” Solona said to Alistair as soon as they left the room.

“What? We can’t afford to waste any more time. We don’t know if the Arl will remain alive for much longer!”

“The Arl is as good as dead, Alistair. If we need a magical artifact that no one ever found to cure him, I think it would be the best to go to the Circle, drop off Cullen, make sure they’ll fulfill the treaties, and send healers this way.”

Cullen cleared his throat so Solona could notice his presence.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“The Bann wants us to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes. Andraste’s ashes, for the Maker’s sake! I’d be willing to indulge, but only after we go to the Circle. You can’t go on second grade lyrium forever, and we don’t know long it would take to find those ashes.”

A memory flashed through his mind, of Ser Byrant in Lothering talking about how their supplies were low because the Circle wouldn’t respond to them. It made no sense for it to be so, unless the darkspawn were already past Redcliffe, which they weren’t.

“Ser Byrant told me that the Circle wouldn’t respond to the messages the Chantry of Lothering sent. Something happened there. I… I forgot. Only recalled it now.”

“I…” Alistair wanted to argue but gave up with a tired sigh. “Fine.”

Off to the Circle, then. Back to his old life.

OoOoO

“So if she were to take the role of the Inquisitor, would you be able to work together?” the Seeker questioned.

Cullen laughed.

“Listen, Seeker, if she dropped out of the sky, or came up the ground, ready to be the Inquisitor, I bet she’d do a great job. That’s her specialty. Except I’d be at her neck the whole time, and not even in the good sense. She’s a Grey Warden. She believes everyone can team up together and fight against the evil, but it’s not so easy when one party believes the other to be the evil. Her charisma only goes so far, and if she is to rely only on it to make Templars and mages understand each other…”

“And yet you’ve told me earlier you’ve been looking for her.”

“Of course I have. I had to ask for help in many places so I could set the mages free. Aveline helped me setting more extensive patrol duties around Kirkwall to keep the people and mages safe from abominations, and plenty of mages were involved in our Circle’s new educational plan. I even got in touch with the First of the Lavellan clan and she oriented the mages and me on how to properly educate young mages about demonic possession and blood magic.” Cullen stopped to take a breath. “Asking for Solona’s advice is not the same as working together.”

The Seeker paused, and blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of Cullen’s past and current attitudes.

“That doesn’t quite explain why after you returned to the Circle, you kept on being a disciplined Templar. Disciplined enough for Knight-Commander Greagoir recommend you to Knight-Commander Meredith.”

“I will get to that part. I might not have regretted killing Connor, but I certainly didn’t walk out of my relationship with Solona without any sort of guilt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bleh. This chapter was a badly edited one.
> 
> (Also if you wanted to know what Cullen did as Knight-Commander...)


	12. Seed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys will probs hate Cullen for a chapter or two, just sayin'

“Solona. For the Maker’s sake, wake up!” Cullen begged. The dawn was already gone and they should be on their way to the Circle, but Solona refused to wake up. She still shared her tent with him, and his anger settled down somewhat, although their differences lingered in the air. They no longer talked at length with each other. 

He wanted to get to the Circle as fast as possible so he could find out what was going wrong there and forget all about Solona. That couldn’t be done if she wasn’t up to walk her way there.

She opened one eye and replied: “I’m so tired. Can’t we please rest for a day?”

“Solona, we can’t! You do remember the Circle might be in danger, don’t you?”

“I trust Knight-Commander Greagoir and First Enchanter Irving. They are fine. Plus, I think I might throw up if I get up. In fact, I want you to call Morrigan here.”

Cullen sighed and got tired of his crouching position, so he sat down.

“Are you sick?”

“Yes.” she replied simply and stirred her position, so she could be face up, both eyes on Cullen. “Get Morrigan, please.”

He didn’t buy it. There was something deliberate about her calmness, and while she looked tired, her cheeks had a healthy rosy tint to them, her body temperature was normal through the whole night. Solona was less inclined to have sex, true, but so was Cullen.

Not to mention, when they escaped Ostagar, she managed to walk and keep herself together, even though she was severely wounded. Of course lyrium played a huge part in it, but they had some lyrium. A little should be enough to treat whatever bothered her stomach.

“You are lying.”

Solona’s calm demeanor started to crumble.

“You don’t really want to know.”

“I don’t think you really want to lie to me as things stand.” Cullen said. “Not after trying to persuade me to allow use of blood magic.”

She let out a big sigh and propped her upper body up with her elbows.

“I’m not lying about being sick. I feel like throwing up. The reason, though… Cullen, I don’t know how much about life they teach to Templars, but considering you knew where to put it, I think you know what comes out of it. I’m pregnant.”

Cullen swallowed hard and his eyes wandered to her stomach. Last night it had looked no different, but after this confession, her belly seemed to hold the entire world.

“For how long?”

“Not very. I was supposed to get my period right after arriving at Ostagar and that was when I lost all my belongings. Including my stack of potions. Since the damage is done, I’ll ask Morrigan to brew a potion for me to get rid of it, but it’s not pleasant. A lot of bleeding involved, and we’ll need to take the day off travelling.”

“It?” Cullen exclaimed. “Getting rid of it?”

“It’s not truly a child yet, you see, and, let’s face it… No way for me to get pregnant while fighting the Blight. I don’t even want to be a mother.”

“Well, I…”

Cullen knew of women who got rid of their pregnancy while in the Circle. He saw it most as an atrocity, the killing of a child before they were even born, and it had to be forced upon the female mages if they got pregnant. He didn’t think one would ever do it voluntarily.

“Don’t tell me you chose this moment to become soft-hearted towards potential children. You killed one in the flesh.”

“Connor was an abomination! He was no longer a child!”

“This is not yet a child so—“

“No. I know you too well to fall for this. We are talking about our son or our daughter!”

“You wouldn’t get to keep it.” Solona argued, her jaw tense.

“I want my child to have a chance to live!” Cullen was getting heated very fast. How dare Solona have so little care for the product of their relationship? Still, he calmed himself down enough to form a coherent suggestion for Solona to keep the baby: “You can stay at the Circle just for labor and then you can be on your way.”

“And leave Alistair alone to take care of the Blight? He might as well just stay at the Circle with me. We can’t put the Blight on hold for nine months.”

“I’ll talk to Alistair. He has to hear reason, if you won’t.”

Solona sighed again and let her body fall on the bedroll.

“If you can convince Alistair to go on without me, then we have a deal. If not…”

“Deal.” Cullen replied and left the tent. The life of his spawn shouldn’t be a deal. It shouldn’t even be in discussion. Alistair was waiting nearby the tent, no doubt trying to overhear something. “Alistair, I need to talk to you in private.”

“I take it this is something about Solona.” he said, tersely, after they went to the borders of the camp.

“Yes. She’s pregnant and will have to stay at the Circle until the labor. You’ll have to continue on your own in the meantime. She’ll rejoin you after delivering the baby.”

Alistair did not take the news well; His body assumed a defensive position, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“You can’t be serious. I told you it was not the time to have forbidden babies! I didn’t even know female Wardens could get pregnant!”

“And did you still believe the stork would drop a package—“

“Of course not, Cullen. The thing is, I thought the Taint made Wardens sterile. I never heard of Wardens having children after Joining, and I didn’t hear of female Wardens getting pregnant either.” Alistair explained. “Duncan mentioned something about Wardens being unable to have children with each other.”

“I’m no Warden.” Cullen said.

“I suppose two persons with the Taint can’t have a child, but it seems if it’s only one… Anyhow, she’s a mage. She’s supposed to know how to protect herself! I can’t…” Alistair trailed off and then continued: “I can’t go on without her. You know this. I wouldn’t even have gotten out of Ostagar alive and get the treaties if it wasn’t for her. You can’t be possibly expecting to take her away for nine months and hope for me to handle the Blight all by myself.”

“You have Leliana, Sten and Morrigan.”

“They only listen to her!”

That much was true, but Cullen wouldn’t cave in.

“You have to find a way. I’m not giving up on my son. You have been a Warden for longer than she has been, and it’s ridiculous that she has to take all the decisions on everything. Will you truly be so selfish to force her to get rid of her baby because you can’t keep yourself together?”

Alistair averted his gaze, and scowled at the distance, tapping his foot in a slow melody.

“I’ll try my best. You should have been more careful, though. If Ferelden is swallowed by the Blight because of your precious child…”

“Well, go tell her the news. And try to sound more optimistic about it.”

Cullen was left alone, fuming. Alistair was clearly jealous that even if he had Solona for himself, she wouldn’t be able to have his children…

Solona coming back to the Circle pregnant of Cullen’s child no less would mean he’d get in trouble with the Knight-Commander, possibly having his rank lowered. He did not care. If he had followed the rules as he should have, none of this would have happened.

Alistair soon returned, his demeanor and tone grim.

“She’s just waiting for the nausea to settle down and then we’ll go.”

OoOoO

The Seeker was deeply shocked.

“Leliana not even mentioned a pregnancy when she told me what she knew about the Hero.”

“Only Solona, Alistair and I knew. Her pregnancy was still in her first month or so, and she requested silence on the matter, saying she didn’t want everyone treating her as if she was made of glass. I obliged. It was a private matter, and I saw no harm, considering the road was clear of darkspawn.”

“She didn’t keep her word, in the end.” The Seeker muttered.

“It was never her intention.”

OoOoO

The trip took longer than expected. Redcliffe and Kinloch Hold were nearly at opposite sides of the lake, and even though there were no darkspawn, they travelled slower than what would be normal. Solona was indisposed, and since she was not affected by any illness, her healing powers did not help, albeit none could tell that from merely watching her.

Cullen, on the other hand, was with her when she collapsed to the bedroll every night, or when she gulfed down all of her food just to vomit it an hour later. Solona was discreet about it, however. Never wavering once outside the tent, and not once letting people know how sick she felt. He decided when to stop, when to call it a day and when to start a new one, that way Solona didn’t run the risk of losing the baby by sheer exhaustion.

Eventually, they made it to the docks they left a couple of months before. Cullen was relieved to see the gloomy tower and the collapsed bridge, and went to speak with his fellow Templar, Caroll, responsible for the boat.

“Cullen! We thought you were dead for sure!”

“There were a few close calls.” Cullen replied. “Solona is a Grey Warden now, as you know, and we have another Warden with us. We wish to speak to the Knight-Commander.”

“He’ll be glad to see you. We had… A few problems. You’ll see once you get there. We’ll have to split the group though. You have a big fellow with you.” Caroll said, eyeing Sten with apprehension.

“Alistair, Solona and I go first. You can come to pick up the rest later.”

Caroll nodded.

“Let’s go, then.”

Alistair rushed to help Solona get down to the boat. Cullen could have been mad about it, though it was a smart move, considering he could no longer act chummy with her. Helping her get inside the boat unprompted would raise questions.

Solona watched the tower get closer to them with a sour expression. It was unclear either she was remembering the bad times, trying not to throw up, or both. Cullen himself had a less than pleasant expression on him, bracing for the angry reprimand he would get.

The Knight-Commander demonstrated utmost trust by allowing him to watch a mage so closely. And Cullen, pathetically weak, loved her and got her pregnant.

Once inside the Tower, however, there were more pressing matters at hand. The heavy double door leading to where the mages lived was closed and guarded, and the hall was filled with Templars, some hurt; gladly most in one piece.

“What happened?” Cullen asked to the Knight-Commander, forgetting any formality.

“Cullen, I thought you were dead. And Solona… How come…” Greagoir mumbled.

“We were lucky. Sorry we didn’t get to return earlier, we ran into some trouble. Though the situation begs the question. What’s going on?”

Greagoir cleared his throat and recomposed himself.

“I’ll put it plainly. We lost control of the Tower. We are prepared to deal with an abomination, maybe two, and one day, there was an entire horde of them inside the Tower. I left with the few Templars I could save and we barred the door. I’ve sent word to Denerim, waiting for the Right of Annulment.”

“What?!” Solona exclaimed. “You can’t do this! I bet there are still innocent mages alive inside.”

The Knight-Commander sighed, the age wearing down on him.

“I’d rather not put my hopes up. Be as it may, I don’t have enough men to check the tower for survivors.”

“We can go. Caroll is getting the rest of my group. Alistair here, is a Grey Warden and has Templar training. We have a Qunari and another mage with us.”

“Solona, you can’t be—“ Cullen blurted out, but stopped himself from demonstrating unusual concern. “This will be nothing but foolish.”

“Foolish would be annihilating the survivors inside.” Solona replied to him, and then turned to the Knight-Commander: “You might have sent Cullen to watch me, but I no longer am under your direct authority. I will try to save everyone inside the Tower. With your help, or no.”

“Do as you wish, Solona. Be warned that once you cross that door, unless you have solid proof it is safe, I will not open to let you leave. Are you certain of this?”

“Of course I am. I’ll just have to wait for my companions to arrive and we’ll be ready to go inside.”

“Knight-Commander, I ask for permission to accompany her.” Cullen said.

“Obviously not! I’m not wasting any more of my men in this. There are Templars and mages alike locked inside.”

Cullen wanted to argue, though he had to remind it was not his place to do so. His Knight-Commander’s orders were final.

“At least let me try to talk some sense into Solona before the rest arrive.”

“You may.” Greagoir nodded and went away to send orders to the Templars left standing.

“I didn’t know insanity was one of the symptoms of pregnancy.” Alistair said in a barely audible murmur.

“We have to try! This is ridiculous, how mages lives are disposable this way, because the Templars failed to do their job!”

“We are not supposed to be able to fight a horde of abominations.” Cullen replied, keeping his cool with much effort.

“You failed when you allowed a horde to happen in the first place. Either you tipped someone over the edge, or failed to punish a maleficent mage. And for the Knight-Commander’s mistakes, innocent people have to pay. There were children inside!”

“Now you care for children!” Cullen snapped. 

“That is because they are children! And not simply a seed.” Solona replied in quiet rage. “I can deal. Morrigan will patch me up if necessary and Sten is strong against abominations and magical attacks. You will not stop me. Afterwards, I promise you I’ll speak to the Knight-Commander about my pregnancy.”

“If you manage to come out of there alive.”

Stress on the word “if”.

“Yes. There is no use stirring Greagoir’s anger before we are even sure I’ll be alive for long enough to have this baby.”

“Right, now that everything is settled…” Alistair interrupted. “Let’s stop talking about with such passion, unless you want others to hear about the great news.”

“Agreed. Let’s wait for the others.”

Cullen retreated to speak with the Knight-Commander, to tell him Solona wouldn’t give up on the idea.

“I was expecting so. You must be tired. Go rest, Templar. You’ve done a great job.” Greagoir replied with a tired smile.

If Solona ever came back alive, the Knight-Commander would know how much of a great job Cullen did.


	13. Going Rogue

Cullen thought he’d feel relieved once Solona came out of the Tower, but once she did, he realized it was just the beginning of his problems.

She managed to save all of the children, several mages – including First Enchanter Irving -- and one Templar, driven insane by a demon; Cullen overheard the tale as she told it to the Knight-Commander, who promised to fulfill the treaties once the Circle was stable again.

Then the Knight-Commander picked a few Templars to double check everything, just in case. Cullen was not chosen, and he had to remain outside, forced to merely watch Solona as she and Wynne healed whoever was hurt, and put the insane Templar to sleep.

When did she intend to tell the Knight-Commander she was pregnant?

The Templar’s search just confirmed Irving’s words on the Tower’s safety, and only then all of those waiting outside were allowed in; Greagoir quickly assigned cleaning duties to everyone, but not to Cullen, or those in Solona’s group.

Solona approached the Knight-Commander and solicited a private conversation. Cullen remained where he was, waiting to be called and yelled at by his superior.

Meanwhile, Alistair came to talk to him. 

“I guess this is a good bye for us.” Alistair said. “I’m trying to hold back my tears.”

Cullen felt jealous of Alistair, very often at that, but he could appreciate the Warden’s ever present sense of humor. It was no use parting ways in bad terms. He knew Alistair was put in a terrible position, thanks to his carelessness, so he should at least be decent.

“I hope you are not expecting a kiss.” They both cringed at the idea for a moment, and Cullen added: “I should thank you, though. For letting Solona stay.”

Alistair cleared his throat, uneasy. 

“Ah, well, we are not really in any sort of debt. I’m only doing what I’m supposed to do.”

Cullen should have known something was off. The talk between Solona and the Knight-Commander was taking too long, and he had not yet been called to join. Alistair’s jaw was shut very tight when he wasn’t speaking.

Surely it wouldn’t take that long to speak the sentence “Cullen got me pregnant”. The words were never spoken, Cullen found out, when Solona finished talking to Greagoir and joined him and Alistair.

“Cullen, you are going to take us to the docks.” she said.

“Us…?”

“Yes, us. I’m not staying. I’m not pregnant any longer.” He was shocked he couldn’t properly react to it, so Solona went on: “Wynne had a few potions stocked up. I already took the one I needed. The baby’s gone by now, there is nothing you can do about it. Just please, cooperate until we get somewhere far away from the Knight-Commander.”

Cullen did that. The docks built in Kinloch Hold were underneath the tower, so there was a safe layer of stone between the docks and where Greagoir stood. The Knight-Commander could not hear Cullen’s yells, and only Alistair and Solona accompanied him to the boat. 

“You are an abominable monster!” he screamed as soon as they finished climbing down the stairs to the docks. His rage was so intense he felt he might explode. “How could you do this to me? You promised!”

“How could you force me to do this? Do you know what they would do to the baby? They would grow up without a family! You have no idea what it feels like. It would be even worse if they ended up being a mage like me. I already know I’m an abominable monster, the Templars remind me of this every single day.” Solona wiped away a single tear, her voice failing. “Just take us away. The baby is already gone. Arguing over it is useless.”

Cullen clenched his fists and kicked the stone wall nearby as hard as he could, but obliged. Solona had already killed his children. There was nothing left to fight for. The trip there went on a haze, Cullen refusing to look or speak anything else to Solona.

How dare she? It didn’t seem half as spontaneous as she made it sound. For how long she had prepared for that moment?

“Did you know?” Cullen asked to Alistair. “That she would do this?”

“I… Did. Sorry.”

If Alistair wasn’t one of the two Wardens left in Ferelden, he might as well have been left to sink to the bottom of the lake.

The rest of the way to margins of Lake Calenhad went by in tight-lipped silence.

Solona went out of the boat without anyone’s help. She turned around to face Cullen, and her last words to him were: “You’ll understand, someday. I know you will.”

OoOoO

Cullen drew a deep breath. As he told the final part of his tale with Solona, he couldn’t face the Seeker and was staring outside of his window. She walked up to him and gave his shoulder a light squeeze, in a friendly gesture.

“It is an understandable pain.”

He let out a tired sigh, his shoulders sinking lower.

“What truly pains me is that I came to understand her. I lived better with myself when I thought I was right, and she was a soulless, manipulative woman. It was not right to force her to go through a pregnancy, at her age and situation. I still mourn my child, though. If Solona had given birth, by now I would have been able to track the child down and bring them here. But it simply couldn’t be, not at that time.”

“We all make mistakes.” The Seeker replied. “And you have learned from them. Plenty of people agree you are a good person, Knight-Commander.”

“Plenty do not. They believe I’m building the new Tevinter. They wonder if I’m not possessed, or a very skilled blood mage who managed to hide it and become a Templar. I keep second guessing myself.”

“Knight-Commander, what you did to Kirkwall was a feat deemed impossible by many. The Circle still exists, and the people and mages are safe. I admit I spent a few days asking questions around, and what you’ve done to the Circle worked. People have faith in you. So do I.”

“You are still trying to butter me up to say yes to being the Inquisitor, aren’t you?” Cullen said with a sad smile.

“Like I said, I don’t wish to force it on anyone. I do wish to have you with the Inquisition, regardless. You are a vital piece to find a sensible solution to all of this; and if the Hero accepts joining us, you’ll have your chance at asking for her forgiveness in person.”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck.

“Seeker, I already said I’m in. Just not as Inquisitor. I believe I told you everything I know of Solona, so if we could… Move on from it, it would be the best.”

The Seeker stepped away and went back to her chair, in an effort to restore the neutral environment between them. She was about to ask about the events in Kirkwall, however, and they had their own painful memories. 

“So, as I understand it, you kept your services at Kinloch Hold during the Blight.”

“Yes. What Solona spoke to Knight-Commander Greagoir before she left were the events after the battle of Ostagar, and she let out the parts he wouldn’t approve. Not to mention, Bann Teagan wrote the Knight-Commander a letter on my exemplar behavior. I assume Solona had something to do with it, too. I was still angry at her, so I devoted myself entirely to the Order, without question.” Cullen explained, as he sat back down. “After the Blight was over, Knight-Commander Greagoir sent me away to Kirkwall. Knight-Commander Meredith was in need of good men.”

The Seeker finished his train of thought: “Shortly after, you rise to the position of the second in command.”

“That much was obvious. Meredith had a Tranquil as her assistant. I was nothing short of a Tranquil when I left Ferelden, still far too hurt, always doing as I was told. No protesting, no questioning, and most of all, with efficiency.”

“And what happened?”

“I regretted falling back to my old habits during the rest of time in Ferelden and the beginning of my time in Kirkwall. In hindsight, it was very convenient: it lasted long enough for me to be in position to act. I was subordinate only to Meredith, and she promoted me to Knight-Captain because she trusted I wouldn’t need close supervision. I had already lied my way to Kirkwall, continuing the trend was not much of an issue.”

The Seeker found a more comfortable position in her chair. That part of the story was known only to people out of her reach: hearing it straight from one of the sources certainly was a privilege.

“How did it all begin? How did you become the Rogue?”

“Things are off to a good ending when you start by becoming friends with an abomination.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand this is the final chapter of the Origins events. I played Inquisition for 20 or so hours but the desktop died and Maker knows when I'll get another one to finish playing, but at least I can do DA2 and the prologue quest of Inquisition.


	14. Going Rogue pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for explicit mentions and descriptions of child abuse!!! Also I'm going to count in events of Origins Awakening, but since Cullen wasn't there to talk about them, you guys will get mentions from characters (ahem, Anders) later on.

“Did you call me, Knight-Commander?” Cullen said, stepping inside the office of his superior. 

He wouldn’t admit it not even to himself, but being inside that room gave him chills. Mostly because of the presence of Meredith’s quiet assistant, Elsa. The Tranquil organized all aspects of the Knight-Commander’s documents, books and schedule. Cullen doubted the real Elsa would do it voluntarily. 

Meredith didn’t look up from the scroll she was reading. 

“Yes, I did. I don’t know if the word is out yet, but a mage set a Templar of ours on fire and fled from the Gallows, burning everyone on the way.” 

“I have some whispers about it on my way here, yes. I was sparring with the younger recruits the whole morning.” 

“Eventually he quieted down and disappeared, close to the Darktown, so it’s safe to say he’s there and will remain that way for some time. That said, I don’t want to run the risk of him doing any more fatal victims. A Templar died in the hands of a mage today. I can’t let this go unpunished.”

There was a pause. Cullen himself couldn’t say anything to fill the silence: he hadn’t been on Kirkwall for long enough to get used to how big the city was, the Gallows likewise. If a Templar back in the Fereldan circle died by the hands of a mage, there would a huge commotion. 

Yet, in Kirkwall, the Knight-Commander waited what seemed to be several hours to communicate it to her second in command. 

“I want you to go to Darktown and search for him. He’s attacking on sight, so it’s no use sending a party. I trust you’ll bring him back with no further incidents. You have clothes, aside from your heavy plate and Templar robes, I take it? If not, you better find some that fit you.”

“You want me to go find this mage without my Templar garments?”

Only then Meredith shot him an icy glare with her sharp, blue eyes. Her glares were her primary form of communication, he learned very quickly. 

“Precisely. Considering you no longer have the duty to watch the Gallows in person, the mage might not recognize your face. You have a better shot at capturing him than any other.” 

Cullen didn’t miss standing for hours, trying not to fall asleep, but being a Knight-Captain was no easier. The recruiting and heavier duties dealing with training were his now, as well as field missions such as these. He didn’t deal with many mages closely, and he was glad for that. Last time he did, things went astray. 

“Elsa, tell the Knight-Captain what we know about the mage.”

The Tranquil, who was previously organizing a book shelf, turned to Cullen, and said, monochord: “Cadwell, otherwise known as simply Cad, is a twelve years old mage. Either he is native to Kirkwall or came from somewhere is unclear, given that he was left as the Gallow’s doorstep when he was three years old. Physical description: he is of average height and slim body frame, with curly ginger hair and dark brown eyes. His face has many freckles.”

She returned to organizing her books, to Cullen’s dismay.

“I will capture him, Knight-Commander.” he said before leaving. 

He retreated to his private room – one of the luxuries of being a Knight-Captain – and fished out common clothes from a chest he didn’t open in a long time. Either he was on his heavy plate, running his daily errands and working, or he was sleeping. 

Wearing common clothes, made of cotton and light leather, felt akin to being nude. The Templar armor was constricting and weighed him down; after so much time wearing it on hours to end, however, Cullen got used to the heaviness. The common sword he had to carry with him also felt strange. 

He realized that, for the last several years of his life, he had not existed outside of the Order. 

Cullen simply couldn’t, at first. With the memories of Solona still fresh in his mind, his anger wouldn’t let him do much else. After a long time, they faded, and Cullen’s anger settled down enough for him to think critically: the conclusion that came to his mind made him feel no more at ease, considering he was now the Knight-Captain to the most ruthless Knight-Commander of Thedas. 

Kirkwall’s mages were being squished by an iron fist – and Cullen knew what that did to mages. Only outside of the Gallows was that he allowed himself to feel shocked that he was supposed to capture a boy that burned a Templar alive. It wasn’t one of Cullen’s recruits, gladly, or else he would have been the first to know, but still… 

And more than that: a mage of twelve years old shouldn’t be able to burn a person alive. Unless he had been possessed or triggered to do it, maybe both. The image of Connor bleeding to death came to his mind, after making a deal with a demon because of the impending death of his father, Arl Eamon.

Cullen shook his head and kept marching on to Darktown. He was not sure if he could deal with it again, but he had to. It didn’t help that he wore commoner clothes. People no longer stared at him when he walked by, the fine Templar armor letting very clear he was an authority to be reckoned with. 

Without the garments, he was just another man, strolling around Kirkwall. His clothes were perhaps in a shape too good for him to pass as someone from Darktown, but the place was filled to the brim with criminals rich enough to own fine clothes and jewelry. Cullen could be a mercenary. He could be anyone. 

The idea was entertaining, to say the very least, though the situation didn’t call for any amusing thoughts. 

He wandered about, trying to make it look like he had a point in being there. Should he ask someone about Cadwell? Wouldn’t it be too obvious? This was the first time he had to do something as a Templar, without letting people know he was one. 

Alas, Cullen had some luck. He was about to give up when a woman, walking not far ahead from him, had her bag stolen at knife point: the burglar stabbed her, grabbed the bag and ran away, to somewhere unknown. 

The woman cried in pain and was bleeding out on the floor. Cullen wished to retrieve the woman’s belongings, but it seemed more fit to kneel beside her and try to stop the blood from coming out. 

She had to be well on her fifties, weak and malnourished. Her strikingly green eyes had no spark. Surviving the wound without proper care would be not far from impossible. 

“Maker, what do I do?” Cullen said to himself, and took off his cloak, using the cleanest part of it to cover the wound. 

The woman coughed up some blood and replied, her breath raggedy and short: “There is someone. Not far from here. He runs a clinic.”

“Can you give me directions? What’s your name?” 

“Name’s Leslie. I can point, but I can’t walk.”

Cullen, delicately, picked the woman up. She wasn’t heavy by any means, and with her instructions, within no time they made their way to said clinic, just a couple of make shift wooden doors, a lantern lit between. 

“Maker blessed us.” whispered Leslie. Talking and breathing seemed like a terrible effort for her, and Cullen noticed her blood was dripping to the floor, even with Leslie putting pressure against the stab. 

He opened the door and walked inside, only to see a blond man serving tea to a boy in an oversized man shirt, sitting in an armchair that was falling apart. The boy had curly, ginger hair, and freckles covered his entire face. 

“Andraste’s tits!” The man exclaimed, with a Fereldan accent, when he saw Cullen and Leslie, though he turned to the boy and said: “Pretend you didn’t hear me saying this.”

“Hello.” Cullen said, lamely. “We have a bit of a problem here.”

“I see that.”

With even more gentleness than Cullen, the man picked Leslie and took her to a gurney, made of wood and stretched fabric, all the while whispering reassuring words to the woman. As he worked to clean and close the wound – with magic --, Cullen observed him with doubled attention. 

He wore blue robes that worked as light armor, with feathered pauldrons and reinforced leather; his emaciation didn’t wash away his entire physical prowess. There were several earrings holes in his ears, but no jewelry to speak of. 

Only then Cullen’s memory clicked: he was before the infamous runaway mage Anders. He was in the Tower before the Blight, and according to Caroll, ran away just before Uldred made an uprising. The Anders he remembered was a promiscuous man, who had earrings and a cocky, confident attitude Cullen only hoped to attain one day. 

Anders wasn’t someone who’d tell a child not to swear, but it was expected he’d offer solace to a young mage running away from the Templars.   
After a good hour, Leslie’s wound had been completely closed, and she had been fed and medicated. She passed out a minute after taking the last potion Anders offered her, but not before profusely thanking both Anders and Cullen. 

The mage walked slowly towards his staff, and Cullen put his guard up. Cadwell, on his armchair, didn’t seem to have recognized Cullen, but even he knew Anders was onto something. 

Indeed: when Anders turned around, his eyes were glowing blue, and he had marks across his whole body, glowing in the same color. Cullen was too surprised to draw his sword and simply stepped back against the wall. 

“What do you want here?” Anders asked, in a deep voice he didn’t have some time ago. It seemed like possession, but just a second after, the glowing subsided and Anders took some distance. “Alright, this is not the right time to get angry. What do you want here, Knight-Captain Cullen?”

“What… Are you?”

“Someone who can kill you. You will not lay a hand on Cadwell, are we clear? Maker knows your Templars have been laying enough hands on him already.”

The whole situation was so unexpected that Cullen attained to the most accessible question: “What do you mean?”

“Has Meredith told you just what the Templar was doing to the boy to grant him a pass to the Fade? I don’t think so.” 

Cullen glanced over to Cadwell. The boy was standing, then, his fists were clenched and there was pure hatred in his eyes. It had to have a good cause. 

“Were they… Hurting him?”

“They were molesting the boy!” Anders snapped, but, again, calmed himself down: “Cadwell? Can you show Knight-Captain Cullen what they did to you? If he lays a finger on you he’s a dead man, I promise. I don’t even know if he’s walking out of here alive.”

Cadwell stepped closer to Cullen, and took off the shirt. Only in his breeches, he displayed his pale, freckled skin, that was marked by bruises shaped like fingers, around his arms and his ankles. His stomach and – Maker’s breath – inner thighs were marked by bites. 

“That Templar deserved to die. The other did, too.” the boy said. “But I only did it on accident. All I wanted was for him to get it out of my mouth. The other, a woman, was just holding me down. That’s why she survived.”

Cullen’s knees faltered, and he leaned his weight against the wall closest to him. The images came up to his head against his will, and only with much struggle, he kept his lunch down. 

“I’m not going to hurt or take any of you. I can’t.” Cullen said only when he could open his mouth without vomiting. In the meantime, Cadwell covered himself again and stood behind Anders. 

“But you wanted to, didn’t you?” Cadwell questioned. 

“At first, maybe. Not anymore.”

Anders lowered his staff and the boy looked up to him, betrayed: “Do you trust what he says?”

“We can talk, see where it gets us. He can’t get out of here unless we let him.”

Cullen knew they did, but his compassion was not just so he could escape without burning to death. He knew of a Templar, back in the Fereldan circle, that often wooed mage girls as young as thirteen. 

By unknown circumstances, he was sent somewhere else, and Cullen didn’t think about it anymore. 

“I don’t plan on capturing anyone.” he said. “I know my words sound empty, perhaps we can find a way for me to prove I won’t tell the Knight-Commander of this clinic.”

The three remained in silence for long moments, each one of them trying to figure out a way of that situation. Cadwell, perhaps, was not as committed with not hurting anyone as the two men. 

“It doesn’t matter if he tells the Knight-Commander or not.” Anders said to the boy, at last. “If it’s that easy for a Templar to walk in on here, then it’s about time for me to move anyway. I’ll say we let him go after I’ve gathered my belongings, and I’ll get you to a safe place. By the time he comes back here, we’ll be long gone.”

“Alright.” Cadwell agreed. 

Cullen obliged to have his sword taken away, and his hands and feet tied. At least they didn’t get his mouth gagged, considering people screaming in Darktown was not unusual. He sat in silence for a good two hours. 

Anders left a note and a few potions beside Leslie before leaving. 

Cullen left all of his loyalty to Meredith behind.


	15. The Runaway Mage

“That is… Horrible.” The Seeker muttered.

“It still makes me nauseous. You see, the problem with the Order is that it attracts and creates all kinds of degenerates, and once they are in, we can’t get them out. Recruits might leave as they please, but a recruit has no true idea of what being a Templar is. What lyrium does to us. The Order has plenty of frustrated Templars taking it out on people who can’t complain, and Templars who do harmful things no matter where they are. It’s madness.”

Cullen made a pause to take a breath, and the Seeker wisely changed the subject: “So you and Anders met even before Hawke?”

“He had been in Kirkwall for some time by then. He and Anders just hadn’t met yet. I suppose I can jump this part and tell you about the occasions where I did interact with Hawke.”

“No, no. I want to know how you solved the problem. You remained at the Gallows for a long time after all of this, so you did solve it, did you not?”

“I had help.”

OoOoO

The sun was going down by the time Cullen made it back to the Gallows. Meredith was pacing back and forth at the front courtyard; every Templar and mage on a twenty foot radius put on edge by her presence.

“Any news?” she asked as soon as Cullen got close enough.

“Nothing concrete. I have my reasons to believe the boy has been taken by apostates, even before he got in Darktown.”

Cullen tried to keep a straight face. The situation was horrible, but he was impressed with his skill at presenting the truth in a favorable way. Cadwell indeed was taken in by an apostate, and that was before he arrived to Darktown: Cullen asked around, and no one had seen the boy or anyone like him.

While Anders didn’t outright say he found the boy and took him to his clinic in secret, it was safe to say that was how things went.

“What are those reasons?”

“No one in Darktown saw Cadwell. Chances are the apostates found him even before then, and took him away. I searched every single hole and trapdoor, found no traces of magic presence. The mage might as well not be inside the city anymore.”

Meredith gritted her teeth, letting out a low growl.

“If I could do things my way, these apostates wouldn’t have a chance of sneaking in and out of town. One more apostate is one more abomination we will have to eliminate later on.”

“How should we proceed, Knight-Commander?”

“This would be a good opportunity to find the herd of them. They are probably hiding in the caves of the Wounded Coast, if they can get in and leave in the matters of a few hours…” Meredith stopped talking for a bit and scowled. “We don’t have the men for such an operation.”

That much was true. People overestimated the power Meredith and the Templars had over Kirkwall: she had plenty political power, for the Viscount and the Chantry of Kirkwall let her do as she pleased, however… Kirkwall was a huge city, plenty of people passing through, coming and leaving.

If a mage with at least an ounce of wit in his body left the Gallows, he could no longer be found. Meredith tried to keep the mages of the Circle as useless and dependent as possible, under strict supervision, to make sure they wouldn’t leave in the first place, otherwise the city would be filled with apostates.

There was a huge difference between what Meredith wanted to do, and what she could do with the low number of Templars available. Even the guards had fewer men that what would be necessary and they didn’t have to sacrifice most of their personal lives for the sake of their job, unlike the Templars.

Most parts of the town were completely unwatched.

Meredith sighed.

“We’ll tighten the belt around younger mages, in this case. I’ve been telling First Enchanter Orsino we give them too much freedom to play around, and now one of my men is dead.”

“Perhaps we should study the situation.” Cullen suggested, and was quick to add: “Tighten the belt where it hurts most.”

He remembered that Cadwell mentioned a Templar woman that escaped from his wrath. Cullen hoped to find evidence of her crimes and maybe even other victims so the children wouldn’t suffer. Closer supervision meant more opportunities for molesting, and if Cullen could prove the homicide was caused by Templars clearly not fit for the job…

The thought of children being violated under the same roof above his head at night made him shudder. He wouldn’t sleep until the Gallows were purged of the scum.

“I’m going to assume you are willing to be responsible for the task.”

“I am, Knight-Commander.”

“Good. I believe I didn’t let you know that the Templar who died was called Edmund. There was another Templar with him, Hallie. You can start by asking her the details. She is at the Infirmary, tending for her burns.”

Cullen headed there. Would a confession be enough to persuade Meredith to not allow molesters near young mages? How could he get a confession from Hallie anyhow…? He didn’t much time to talk to all of the Templars, but he had spoken to her before. She seemed rightful and disciplined. So did Cullen, and look at what he did on work hours. 

Hallie still smelt like burnt meat, lying on a bed of the Infirmary. The Healers excused themselves out of Cullen’s way with a polite “Knight-Captain”.

A thin blanket covered her whole body, going up to her neck. Her light brown hair was cut short, probably because it burned. The slight movement she made, acknowledging his presence, hurt her, and she scowled. 

“Knight-Captain. I didn’t expect a visit from you.”

“Knight-Commander Meredith put me in charge of investigating the circumstances surrounding the attack.” Cullen said, and watched her wince. “Perhaps if we know what was behind it, we can think of better punishments to avoid further attacks.”

He pulled a chair to sit on her bedside. This would be fun.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Please, tell me about what was going on right before Cadwell decided to burn your fellow Templar to death.”

“Cadwell always had been problematic.” Hallie explained. “He was behaving terribly that day, Edmund and I decided to have a private talk with him, find out what was going on. He took the opportunity to attack us both and flee.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow.

“Problematic?”

“Wouldn’t let the Healers examine him, behaved badly in his lessons…”

“Any idea why he would do that?”

“How can we know what goes through mage’s heads, Knight-Captain?”

It was clear that a confession from her would not happen. Cullen’s only chance would be to get her on the act, or find another victim that already had been molested. The latter option was unlikely. No child abused by Templars would ever trust Cullen enough.

The days dragged by, with no change in the case. Hallie soon was back to her feet, thanks to the work of the Healers, and Cullen had an excuse convincing enough to watch the younger mages of the Circle, but he couldn’t sleep at night after seeing up close how the boys and girls were treated. How they feared him.

Hallie would lay low for far too long… Perhaps any others would, too.

Meredith eventually pressed for Cullen’s conclusion on how to perfect the supervision on the children. He felt like bursting through his seams, and when one night, he snuck out of his room – not that there was anyone watching him – and returned to the Darktown.

The lantern between the two makeshift doors of Anders’ clinic was lit, and Cullen walked inside.

The small ambient smelt like vomit. On a corner, someone puked their guts out in a bucket, while Anders shifted through potions in a small chest. There were two other men, and they reeked like cheap whiskey, too inebriated to properly help whoever was being sick.

Cullen ignored it all and went to sit on the armchair, resting his face against a palm for what seemed to be an eternity. The person throwing up eventually stopped: Cullen overheard that he had been served a drink from a sketchy source and started feeling ill.

Anders sent them away with a “Make him drink this every half an hour and keep the bucket close by.”

And then, he locked the door and turned to Cullen.

“I didn’t think you were coming back, Anders.”

“I left Cadwell somewhere safe and came back to check if you had kept your word. Surprisingly enough…”

Anders grabbed a chair and sat close to Cullen, looking pale and with dark circles under his eyes. He was not, by any means, the same Anders from before. They remained in silence for a long while, and he said: “Hallie is still watching over children.”

“My hands are tied. I don’t know of any other victim, and she’s behaving herself. As well as even if I found any evidence, she still wouldn’t be punished as she should. Templars never leave the Order, they are just moved around until they learn not to get caught.”

Cullen did not ask Anders just how he knew about Hallie.

“So you are going to leave it like that?” the mage asked, in an accusatory tone. For a brief moment, his eyes flashed an unnatural hue of blue, and his voice grew deeper. Cullen felt mana oozing out of him. “I—I mean… There must be something you can -- ”

“What’s that?” Cullen demanded, sitting up straight.

“Before I tell you anything, I should remind you that no one knows you are here. If you attack me, I’ll be ready to defend myself, and it won’t feel any good.” Anders replied. He was placid, but he meant it.

A frown grew on Cullen’s face, but there was no turning back by that point.

“Go ahead.”

“I’m not just Anders anymore. I… Merged with a spirit from the Fade.”

“A demon.”

“Not a demon. There are good spirits in the Fade too. As a Templar, you should know this. I became friends with the spirit of Justice. He had merged with a corpse, but eventually the corpse couldn’t hold him any longer and we were friends, so I offered my own body.”

Once again, both men fell silent. Cullen was trying to digest what had been said to him.

“This sounds a lot like a possession, Anders. How did you even come across this spirit of Justice?”

Anders smirked slightly.

“I got caught by the Templars sometime after the Blight was over, I was kept locked up on the Vigil’s Keep, near Amaranthine. The place got attacked by a horde of remaining darkspawn, and I was going to use the opportunity to escape from the Keep, but someone intercepted me before I could do it. The Warden-Commander herself, and she asked me to tag along if I didn’t want to die. It was a compelling argument.”

“Warden-Commander…?” Cullen’s heart skipped a beat. Rumors of the Hero of Ferelden saving Amaranthine made their way to the Gallows; Meredith said it was distasteful that a mage was the Warden-Commander, even if she saved Ferelden from the Blight.

“Warden-Commander Solona Amell, former mage of the Circle, Hero of Ferelden. She conscripted me into the Grey Wardens. Met all kinds of people during my stay under her command… Including Justice.”

“I… See.” Cullen cleared his throat. Trying not to sidetrack the matter at hand – Anders’ possession --, he asked: “How come?”

“Justice was forced inside the dead body of a man named Kristoff, but the link was growing weaker. I didn’t want him to leave, so I took him inside me. It was a dangerous thing to do, and I had no idea to foresee the outcome.”

“So you have this… Spirit… Inside your head?”

“No, you see… We merged. My thoughts are Justice’s, and Justice’s thoughts are mine. We became one person, but Justice still has a stronger link to the Fade than I, as a mage, have. Sometimes his powers take over. Especially when I – we – get angry.”

Again, silence. Cullen observed Anders closely, and he did the same, each wondering if it was wise to trust the other.

However, Cullen reasoned that the Anders he knew would never hole himself up in the worst part of Kirkwall to heal the poor. He’d be drunk instead, spending everything on the ladies of the Blooming Rose.

It did sound like possession, but still…

“You can trust me. I have no interest in hurting you.”

“You know, Solona told me a bit about you. I know you two were a couple for some time and had a terrible break up. I’m having a hard time putting together a reason for you to come to Kirkwall and become Knight-Captain, Cullen, if you are so soft-hearted. I told you my piece. You might as well tell me yours.”

OoOoO

“I left out a couple of things. Solona didn’t tell Anders of her pregnancy, so I didn’t, as well.” Cullen said, sighing. “Other than that, after that night, he knew nearly everything there was to know about me. And I, about him.”

“I had no idea your friendship was so strong.”

Cullen’s lips curved up in a reluctant smirk.

“No one did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a new ship e-e


	16. Justice

“Hm hm.” Meredith made approving sounds as she read Cullen’s report.

It was the foulest thing he had ever written, and he was proud of it, too. If the Knight-Commander decided to go through with his suggestions, the chances of any younglings being hurt by Hallie or anyone else were gone. It had been a torturous process. He had to walk a fine line between speaking his mind and pleasing Meredith.

Not the easiest of the tasks, but he managed to pull it off: one of his suggestions was forbidding the Templars to be alone with younger mages, lest they would get the chance of running away from the Gallows, never to be seen again. A few comparisons to wild animals were made, as well, for the Knight-Commander’s enjoyment. 

“Is it to your taste, Knight-Commander?”

She threw the scroll on top of her desk and leaned back on the chair.

“Those are sensible ideas. I suppose they will do.”

Cullen bowed with a smirk. It could be taken as mere politeness, but in fact, he was happy that he managed to improve the situation for the mages in the Gallows, even if just a little.

“Thank you, Knight-Commander.”

“There is another subject I wished to address today.” she said, assuming a straighter posture and shuffling through her papers. “As a Knight-Captain, dealing with our recruits, I take it you understand that our numbers are not the ideal for our situation. Our numbers cannot and do not intimidate the mages. It is a matter of concern that an apostate managed to find a runaway Circle mage and disappear with him without leaving behind a single trace.”

“Of course.”

The fact Meredith hadn’t found any single trace of Anders’ activities was refreshing, but what was coming next certainly wouldn’t be.

“The common practice would be not to apply the Rite of Tranquility to Harrowed mages, though I’m running out of options to make the mages behave. The idea has been mentioned to me, and I’m starting to consider it.”

“Would the Chantry approve of this?” Cullen asked, trying to gain time to put together a reply that would appease Meredith. He walked inside her office that morning with many scenarios in his head, but that was something he did not foresee.

“Elthina will approve of anything that we have to do to keep the order. Orsino certainly won’t approve, but we do not need his approval.”

“Do you have someone in mind, Knight-Commander?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, this has to be done with much thought. The mages feel strongly about Tranquility, and it might not have the desired effect. It might make them angrier and more difficult to deal with. You must know about what happened in the Fereldan Circle while I was away, accompanying the Hero of Ferelden. There was an uprising, and it slayed many of my colleagues and friends. Knight-Commander Greagoir granted the mages plenty of freedom, and yet they have rebelled… Don’t give them a reason to do that here. We can’t risk it.”

Meredith tapped her fingertips on the desk, digesting Cullen’s words.

“I will have to do it strategically, then.”

Not quite the answer Cullen intended to get, but… He could only do so much without making it clear he didn’t agree with Meredith’s methods. Or the Order’s methods in general, not that his methods were any better.

Later that day, he would, yet again, be at Anders’ door. The lantern was not lit, but he walked inside anyhow. The room was swallowed by darkness, if not by one single candle burning, perched on top of Anders’ desk.

The mage himself was sitting by it, writing a letter with unwavering focus, though he did acknowledge Cullen’s arrival.

“Are the children doomed already?” he asked.

“No, Meredith swallowed my report. Hallie and any others won’t have the chance of doing anything again. There is another matter of concern now, though. She mentioned putting Harrowed mages through the rite of Tranquility, as a form of punishment and intimidation to other mages in the Circle.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“I don’t… Know. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the best idea to keep exchanging letters with Karl. If you ever get caught… There are very bad things that could happen to him now.”

Anders lowered his quill in a deliberately slow gesture.

“So that’s how you plan to go on about things? Just doing as much as you can afford to without really risking your neck?” His voice deepened, and blue cracks glowed all over his body, while he stood up to face Cullen. “Doing one small action after years of serving the very same Order killing and oppressing my kind doesn’t absolve you of your guilt. Stepping aside and not doing anything is not the same as innocence.”

“You do realize that corpses don’t do anything either, I hope?” Cullen replied, without as much of a flinch. He could sap his mana if needed be. “And that if I, one way or the other, leave the Order, then I won’t be position to make any difference. If I keep my position as Knight-Captain, one day I might be Knight-Commander.”

The blue light flickered.

“And what will you do then?”

“What any decent person would do. I’ll free the mages, but for this, I need to stay alive and inside the Order. If it means stepping aside at certain occasions, so be it.”

Anders went back to normal and rubbed his forehead, sighing deeply.

“I just… Hate what you are and what you represent.”

“We’ve talked about this before. Not all Templars are like Meredith. She does everything she does willingly, but most of us… We are dogs under a leash. Yes, maybe lyrium helps us with our abilities, though we don’t really need to take it every day. The Order commands us to do so. You want to know why? So we can lose every single ounce of compassion we have. All we care about is getting the next draught.” Cullen said. “I deal with recruits. They are not bad people. They would listen to reason and they wouldn’t handle being a Templar, if only they had the option to leave after their Vigil. I know I don’t. I’ve spent some time without taking lyrium, and it’s not something I wish on my worst enemy. Hate the Order all you like, but do not hate Templars.”

“You ask too much of me.”

“Then at least have the brains to understand I’m doing what I can with what I have.”

Anders stared at Cullen for a long moment.

“I’ll keep writing letters to Karl. You can’t possibly ask me to stop doing that. I’ll try to get him out somehow, in the meantime. I can’t… I don’t know what I’d do without him. I didn’t tell you the whole story last time. He was my… First. The only person I’ve ever dared to love. Look where it got me, taking the risk of getting him and myself caught just for the pleasure of reading his words.”

“…Why?”

“The Templars will find me. Again, and again, and again. It’s just a matter of time. I don’t see the situation changing within my lifetime.”

The air in the room was heavy, oppressing Cullen’s breathing. He could see that Anders was crumbling, bearing the weight of all injustices against mages on his shoulders. This, Cullen realized, was Justice, not Anders. Justice wanted to right all wrongs, but Justice was stranded in a man’s body, and there was only so much a single man could do.

“One step at a time goes a long way.” said Cullen. “You can’t change everything, but you can start the process. I intend to do that. It will be easier if you help me out.”

“I suppose… You are right. I’ll tell you what: I can sneak in a few notes to your room if I need anything so you don’t have to come here often. Deal?”

Anders stretched his open palm towards Cullen. They shook hands, and exchanged glances of unexpected complicity.

“Deal.”

Neither let go of the handshake. Cullen wasn’t unfamiliar with the concept of men being with other men, and he had caught himself… Wondering, at times. That was one of those times. Anders was not bad looking, not at all.

“Now that is just fucking brilliant.” Anders cussed before pulling Cullen close and kissing him full on the lips.

It felt… Different, certainly, having the hands of a man cupping his face. Or, after a little while, feeling another erection against his own. Next thing he knew, they were both undressing, on their way to Anders’ bed, their mouths and hands busy.

Cullen was shoved to the bed, and Anders climbed on top of him, between his legs. At first, there was just kissing and grinding, but then…

OoOoO

“In hindsight, I should have told him it was my first time with a man. It felt nice, but I couldn’t sit for two days afterwards.”

The Seeker let out a disgusted grunt, making Cullen chuckle.

“Knight-Commander, I don’t think I need to know that sort of detail.”

“Doesn’t it raise the question on how Anders ended up with Hawke? If Karl was the only man Anders ever loved, and he bedded the Knight-Captain of Kirkwall, how come Hawke appears in the picture?”

“That is… True.”

“Anders and I were never truly together to begin with. Anders loved Karl, and I was just curious, nothing else. We had fun for a while, though… If you can call it that.”

OoOoO

A couple of weeks passed. Cullen would visit Anders every other day, always carefully sneaking out of the Gallows and returning before the sun rose.

Cullen was glad that Anders didn’t seem to be interested in anything further. Sex itself wasn’t so bad, but what Cullen really missed were the curves and soft bosom of a woman. His feelings for Solona were no more than a scar like any other in his body, still a bit sore, perhaps, though the urge for being with a woman could not be fulfilled by a man.

He received the news Hallie would be transferred to another Circle, by her request, and let Anders know the first chance he got to visit his clinic. It was merely an afterthought, when they were both sweaty and exhausted, but Anders sat up on the bed upon hearing the news Cullen breathed out.

“She’s leaving? To another Circle where she can hurt more children?”

“I didn’t think about it, really.”

Anders scoffed.

“Of course you didn’t. Are you going to tell me your hands are tied again? We… Could do something. Before she leaves. I heard that she goes frequently to the Blooming Rose now. There is a young male elf who sees her. There are also plenty of dark places between the Gallows and the Blooming Rose.”

“You want to kill her, don’t you?” Cullen said flatly.

“Is there any other way? She’ll just keep hurting mages. In the Gallows, she is not able to do so anymore, and I would even bet that’s why she asked to go somewhere else.”

“I sense there is nothing I can say to change your mind.”

“No.”

Cullen didn’t know how he felt about killing a fellow Templar, but she lost her right to be referred as such after participating in a child’s rape. Letting her go would be stepping aside.

“Fine. I’ll go with you. Just say when and how.”

“That would help. I’m no good with a sword and I shouldn’t use any magic to get rid of her, unless I want Meredith torturing mages in the Gallows in reprimand. I can use daggers, though, but at night, Kirkwall is dangerous. I’d like someone having my back. I’ll send you a note. I have contacts at the Blooming Rose that could help, but I need to make certain of a date.”

Three days later, a note was slipped under Cullen’s door. It simply read: Tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An observation on Cullen's sexuality: I feel quite uncomfortable in making him anything other than heterosexual because, well, ingame, he's heterosexual, with no room for interpretation, since it's a game and we can't romance him if the Inquisitor is male (without mods, at least). 
> 
> But I decided to go ahead and make him bicurious because 1) he was in his early twenties 2) he is more pointedly sexual (Canon!Cullen will quite literally run away if you offer him sex out of the blue, like what happens in the Mage origin, in DA:O, whereas this Cullen had plenty of unprotected sex with someone he knew he wouldn't be with in the long run) 3) it is a display that Cullen and Anders are close enough for him to trust Anders with his butt virginity
> 
> So there is that


	17. Painful Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has little to no editing so it's probs really bad. Also I can't describe combat for shit. Enjoy tho.

“Where is Cadwell?” Cullen questioned, tying the knots of the pair of boots Anders got him.

Obviously, he had said, Cullen couldn’t get blood stains in the very clothes he’d take back to the Gallows. The thought that Anders gave it so premeditation both tranquilized and unnerved Cullen: with so much care for details, and the fact Kirkwall was a city festering with criminals, meant the chances of Cullen getting caught for the murder were close to zero.

On the other hand, the fact Anders was capable of thinking of such details as blood stains in clothes made Cullen think he might have done that before.

“Cadwell is somewhere safe, being taken care of by another mages. That’s all I’m going to tell you.”

“Another mages…?” Anders shot him a quizzical look, and he went on: “I think we are past the point of distrust, aren’t we? I’m about to go kill someone with you.”

Saying it out loud made it much more real and terrifying. Hallie, however, couldn’t just go, unpunished, to another Circle.

“It’s not that.” Anders replied. “I can’t tell you because it isn’t safe either for you, or for them if I tell you. I’ll just say we have an organized movement, and we are taking care of Cadwell. Anything else and I might be putting their lives in danger. Meredith could still catch up on you coming over here often and then she’d have you tortured for information. It’s best if you don’t have information to spill out.”

Cullen sighed and stood up. The rough leather and fabrics of his new clothing felt like a whole new skin. Once he stripped himself off the Templar armor and put on his commoner clothes, he was no longer the Knight-Captain. And with these mercenary clothes, he was something… Much worse.

“Fair enough.” he relented.

Anders had his weight rested against his desk, and stood up straight after seeing Cullen was dressed and ready.

“I didn’t tell them about you, though. Same reason. You are a precious source of information for us, I wouldn’t want you getting hurt. I gave you a nickname.”

“Oh? What is it?”

“We just call you the Rogue. They know you are a Templar, other than that, they have no clue of who you are. A bunch of hidden mages knowing the Knight-Captain is on their side would cause a ruckus.”

Cullen snorted.

“This makes me sound nearly interesting.”

“Doesn’t it?” Anders agreed with a smirk. “We should get going if we want to ambush Hallie before she makes it to the Blooming Rose, while she still has coin for us to steal.”

Leaving Anders’ clinic while walking side by side with him felt weird for Cullen. He had a hood and his face obscured, while Anders walked with his face bare, and yet he felt all the eyes on him. As if they knew what he had done, and what he was going to do.

Or maybe it was paranoia. He knew that the only criminals who got caught in Kirkwall were careless and didn’t have enough money to get themselves out of their situation: Anders was anything but careless. After years of running away from Templars, and now from the Wardens, he couldn’t afford to.

He chose the darkest, emptiest allies and pathways to walk, though once in a while they’d walk past groups of bandits, here and there.

“Anders, how come did you run away from the Wardens?” Cullen asked as they walked through a particularly empty ally.

“I didn’t run away, exactly. Solona let me go. I told you that she conscripted me because I was going to get hanged by the Templars, and it was around the time of the darkspawn attacks in Amaranthine and Vigil’s Keep, so I had to stay until the situation was solved. Once that was done for, she told me I could go. I still have some of my Warden’s belongings if any other problem stirs, and my assistance is needed.”

Cullen’s throat tightened, and he had a hard time breathing for a moment. He’d still try to reach out for Solona’s warmth in his sleep, and found nothing but empty air.

“Is… Is she doing well? Is she happy?”

Is she with someone?

“She might be doing well as Warden-Commander, but she isn’t happy. Being a Grey Warden is just another prison. We have this… Thing… To become Grey Wardens we become tainted. We have three decades to live after our Joining, at the very best. She isn’t happy with the little time she has left.” Anders said. “You still love her, don’t you?”

“She is—Was very important to me. I want to see her well.”

It was not fair. Not fair at all, that the only way she could have some degree of freedom was cutting her life short by half and being tied to obligations she did not want.

“You must have been really out of yourself to love a mage this much and still become Knight-Captain.”

“I was.”

Anders sensibly dropped the subject, and, in silence, the two men made it to the spot they were supposed to wait for Hallie. It was a dark corner in Lowtown, not far away from Hightown, a less known path to the Blooming Rose.

“How do you know she’s going to walk past here?” Cullen wanted to know.

“We’ve watched her. She used to visit the Blooming Rose with Edmund. Now that he is dead, she follows the same path but alone. Of course that the bandits already know they will get in trouble if they rob a Templar so she is safe. Or at least she thinks so.”

“And what makes you confident that we will get away with it?”

“Because we are not bandits. She will go after every burglar and thief, because they all know each other, but they don’t know us.”

They fell into silence and waited for what seemed to be an entire age. Eventually, Cullen heard heavy steps coming in their direction, coming from the more well-lit path crossing their ally, and he gestured Anders to keep quiet, resting his back against the wall so he couldn’t be seen by whoever was coming.

With a slow, smooth movement, Cullen took a dagger – again, supplied by Anders -- out of his belt.

For a moment, his thoughts shut down, but his body didn’t. He recognized the hair when Hallie walked past their hiding spot, and Cullen, in a single leap, caught up with her and covered her mouth with his hand, putting the dagger on her throat. 

Stunned in surprise, and still not quite recovered from her burns, Hallie tried to scream but did not try to counterattack. Cullen dragged her back to where he was, and Anders didn’t waste any time to find a weak spot in the light armor she wore and pierce the dagger through her clothing, skin and muscles.

Hallie gasped, and coughed up blood on Cullen’s hand. He let go of her and she fell onto the floor with a loud thud: he could only stare, wide-eyed, as Anders slit her throat and got a hold of her bag of coin.

“We are done here. Take your dagger. We don’t want the guards finding our weapons.” Anders said and took the lead back to Darktown.

Cullen looked back just one time, to see Hallie’s body lifeless, in a pool of her own blood.

OoOoO

The Seeker had her mouth open agape.

“It sounds terrible, I know.” Cullen said. “But I didn’t know what to do. Was I supposed to let Hallie go somewhere else and hurt more children? Doing it was terrible, but not doing would be even more.”

“Wasn’t it a hint of what Anders was capable of doing in the name of Justice? That he was capable of killing?”

“I didn’t know he would be capable of killing innocent people in the name of his cause. Hallie was not innocent, by any stretch. If he was by doing that, so was I.” Cullen made a long pause. “I sometimes blame myself for not sticking closer to him and looking out for his wellbeing before he snapped. We could have found a way… If only…”

OoOoO

“I’m trying to get Karl out of the Gallows. Actually trying.” Anders confessed in a mutter, his face buried in the curve of Cullen’s neck. He had become especially warm since Hallie was gone – Meredith was livid for not being able to find who “mugged” her – and Cullen found himself with the realization he didn’t wish to go any further than a friendship.

Lying down in a bed with a warm body on top of his wasn’t bad, but there was something missing. He couldn’t find within himself the passion and the excitement he felt when he was with Solona. The feelings simply were not there.

Yet, Cullen hesitated in letting Anders know that any second before the point of being strictly necessary, given that he was the only person Cullen could be himself with. The mage became a reliable source of comfort, and after so much time keeping sorrows and physical needs buried, Cullen didn’t wish to go back to it.

“I can try to look for breaches in the patrols.” he muttered back, running his fingers through Anders’ hair, in the dimly lit room. It was late at night, soon would be morning and he’d have to return to the Gallows.

“You shouldn’t. Meredith would catch up on it very quickly. You can’t do anything as a Knight-Captain without calling her attention; this is something I have to do without your help.” Cullen nodded understandingly, and Anders went on: “I… I really appreciate what you are doing for me and the mages.”

“I’m not doing enough.”

Cullen was still, after all, Knight-Captain. Yes, he relayed every bit of information to Anders, but overall, in his daily life, he still had to enforce the Chantry’s rules upon the mages.

“It’s okay. I have spoken to the other mages about… Well, you. They suppose it’s alright if you can’t exactly risk your neck for us, right now. It will take time, and you should look after yourself. If we lose you, then there won’t be anyone else inside the Gallows willing to help us.”

They already talked about it, though this time, it was Cullen who thought his actions were insufficient. Meredith was actively looking for more mages to make Tranquil, and Karl was no longer safe from that fate.

It wouldn’t end well. And, in fact, it didn’t.

Not a week had passed since his talk with Anders, and Cullen was watching the recruits spare with each other, when a young Templar that went by the name of Keran approached him.

“Knight-Captain, you must come! A mage… We’ve found letters…”

Karl.

“Take me there.”

Running with heavy armor was no joke: Cullen found himself searching for breath by the time he made it to the heart of the confusion. Several Templars tried to subjugate one mage who expertly deflect any attacks and was slowly making his way to the courtyard. He almost there, in the last hallway that led to the yard between the Circle itself and Meredith’s and Orsino’s offices.

However… It would be useless. Meredith was in her office after all, and if Cullen failed to control the situation, she’d be called. And she would control the situation.

Cullen stopped for just a fleeting moment and drew his sword with a heavy heart. Karl wouldn’t escape anyhow, not like that, and deserved at least a merciful death. On Meredith’s hands, he’d have anything but that.

Karl’s movements became less thoughtful and more desperate as Cullen made his way through the recruits and took charge of the situation, receiving the magical blows with not even a flinch. He let Karl at least leave the hallway to the yard, and made chase, since the mage had nowhere to run anymore.

Weaker by the moment, Karl still tried to attack Cullen, who was getting closer and closer, gritting his teeth and protecting himself with his shield. The Templars around just watched, knowing the situation was already under control. When Cullen got close enough to dispel magic and sap Karl’s mana, Karl decided to do one last attack with the little strength he had left, a bolt of Arcane magic, which was dodged by Cullen.

He bashed Karl with his shield, and put the tip of his sword on the throat of the mage. Cullen hesitated for a moment upon seeing Karl’s eyes, so filled with pain and regret.

“Kill me. Please.”

The moment of hesitation was the moment necessary for Meredith to make her appearance and shout: “Stand down, Knight-Captain! I want the mage alive.”

Cullen thought drawing his sword would be the hardest decision he’d make that day, but putting it back on its belt and immobilizing Karl to escort him to where the Rite of Tranquility was applied to mages was much more painful.

Ser Alrik was waiting by the door of the room.

“Knight-Captain, you might return to your duties.” Meredith said. “I take it from here.”


	18. The Fereldan Mercenary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update! School has been pretty demanding as of late. Also thanks for the kudos, comments and views, you guys. I really appreciate it :3

Cullen’s steps towards the Clinic were hesitant. A couple of days had passed since the incident with Karl, and he was a brand new Tranquil roaming around the Gallows. Anders should be aware of it already, and Cullen wanted to comfort him, however couldn’t bring himself to come see the mage, not after cowering in the last minute and letting Karl be turned Tranquil.

The lantern was not lit. A middle aged man waiting by the door turned to Cullen and said: “It’s been out since yesterday. Do you think anything happened?”

The man didn’t seem to recognize Cullen.

“I’m here to check. I’m a friend of his and haven’t heard of him in a while.”

“Alright. Make sure he’s okay. No butcher or pretend medic here is as good as he is. People in Darktown need him.”

Cullen nodded and went ahead to the door, knocking softly and going inside, closing it right behind his back. The room was pitch black if not for faint blue light coming from the “bedroom”: a small space with a double bed that was separated from the clinic by a wooden wall.

“Anders?”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” said a voice much deeper than Ander’s own. Then there was a sigh. “But I should.”

Through the gaps in the wood, Cullen could see Anders standing up from the bed, on his breeches, and making his way to the clinic. His whole body was covered in cracks releasing blue light, and his eyes were completely taken by the same light. Yet, he seemed in control of himself.

Cullen sat down in his usual armchair, and patiently waited for Anders to join him. Never again he’d be as aware of Anders’ status as an abomination like in that moment, and even then, killing Anders seemed an act as abominable as violating a child.

“Do you know what happened?” Cullen asked when Anders picked up a chair and sat close to him, in a stiff and unnatural manner.

“You caught Karl and handed him over to Meredith.”

“He was going to get caught, anyhow. He didn’t have an escape plan and was going in the direction of a heavily guarded courtyard, close to Meredith’s office. I thought I could give him a merciful death, but she stopped me. I… I’m sorry.”

“I’m aware. I want to blame you but I shouldn’t. Karl would have been gone with or without there and expecting you to risk yourself just yet is not an option. The injustice comes from Meredith, the Circle and the Chantry, not you.” The deep voice kept going: “I’m alright. I know hurting myself right now won’t do any good to the people I help. The grief and the anger will pass, and I will be okay.”

“Am I talking to Anders or to Justice?” Cullen asked. If anything, Anders could never dissimulate his anger and emotions, and while in the Circle, he got himself in plenty of trouble because of that. And he was not calm, not if he was radiating blue light.

“I am both. Anders and Justice are not two separate entities.”

Cullen saw nothing like that before, and he realized that, yes, Anders no longer existed as he was.

“What will you do about Karl, then?”

“I don’t know yet, but Karl would rather face death than be made Tranquil. I am trying to arrange that. I will not rest until he gets to find peace.”

“Of course. Is there anything I can do to help get you through this?”

“You should visit more often. Your presence is… Oddly comforting. I never felt like this before. I’ve only known memories of part of me, but not experienced this for myself. I don’t want you to leave.”

Cullen swallowed hard. He knew things were taking unexpected turns, but he didn’t see himself with a man. Sex wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t… Good, either. Nothing like he felt when he was with Solona, however unexperienced he was back then.

Turning Anders -- not Anders, but the joining of him and a spirit of Justice – down didn’t seem appropriate, yet it was something that had to be done.

“You know this can never happen, right? I’m not running away from the Order.”

“I’m well aware. It hurts me, but I still want you around. Is that alright?”

“It is. I’ll come as often as I can.”

“I’ll be forever in your debt, Cullen.”

OoOoO

“It might sound terrible, but I don’t regret not killing Anders, back then, even though I was aware he was an abomination.” Cullen said to the Seeker. “Rather, he was not an abomination. He was a new person born out of a spirit and a runaway mage.”

“He blew up a Chantry, Knight-Commander. He was a monster.”

“I hope never to see Anders again. He betrayed my trust and tossed away all the support I offered him. What he did was unjustifiable and had no excuse, but he didn’t do it because he was an abomination. He did it because he was a person who had suffered.” Cullen realized he had a frown and relaxed his face. “I understand this because I did terrible things under Meredith’s command, and I was in perfect control of myself. I don’t expect the mages I’ve hurt and the families and loved ones of those I killed to forgive me, but those were mistakes I hope to make up for.”

The Seeker nodded.

“Do you sleep well at night, now?”

“I sleep better, yes…” There was a pause, and Cullen continued: “I’ve met Hawke shortly before Anders did, though. It was a bit after Karl was made Tranquil, if I am not mistaken. That was when I found myself acquainted with my current Knight-Captain, Thrask.”

OoOoO

In between keeping tabs on Anders, who had calmed down and opened the Clinic again, and doing his work as Knight-Captain, Cullen still found time to research extensively at the Gallows’ library about abominations and the Fade. Not that there was much factual information about it: only blatant indoctrination by members of the Chantry. Not many Templars were particularly literate, as the routine was far too exhausting for even those who enjoyed reading to have some energy left to waste on a book, but that didn’t make much of a difference, not with the books they had available.

The library reserved for Templar didn’t have many regulars, though one night, a new face appeared. Ser Thrask, an older Templar that would be stuck in his position forever, should Meredith have her way. He was far too compassionate with the mages, she’d say, and there were rumors he had a child outside of wedlock with a prostitute. No one knew anything about the child. Cullen’s heart warmed at the thought of his would-be child.

When Cullen saw Thrask struggling to find something, he decided to approach the man: “Are you looking for something in particular, ser Thrask?”

“O-oh, it’s nothing, Knight-Captain. Just an old book, it’s probably lost.”

“I could help you look for it. I’ve been here long enough to know where nearly everything is.” Thrask seemed to be on edge. The situation wasn’t any good for him, clearly looking for something suspicious, and being approached by the Knight-Captain, a man as ruthless as the Knight-Commander. Or so anyone would think. “Ser Thrask, I have no intention of policing your behavior. I’m not Meredith. If there is anything troubling you, I want to know and we will deal with it, without getting her involved.”

“Would you do that, Knight-Captain?”

“I would. I’ve been in troubling situations myself.”

Thrask’s tense posture relaxed after that, and he said: “I need a map of the Wounded Coast. I’ve been following a group of apostates and I nearly got myself lost there, after the cave they were hiding within. I want them to surrender peacefully before Meredith finds them and grant them no mercy. I can’t go there to speak to them myself, but there is someone I can contact. Rather, contract, to do this for me.”

“Who?”

“It’s a Fereldan mercenary, Hawke. Made quite a name for himself, and helped me solve a situation in a peaceful way before.”

“Hawke.” Cullen echoed. “Is he a mage?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“You can trust me; Meredith won’t hear about this. I suppose I can find you a map, and if you are hiring him, I can give you some coin.”

Thrask looked away and pursed his lips.

“Why would you do this now? You never disobeyed Meredith.”

“Not that anyone knows of, ser Thrask. I hope to keep it that way.”

“I wouldn’t have any other way, Knight-Captain.”

A couple of days after Cullen found a map and gathered some coin, Thrask got an affirmative response from the mercenary himself. It took some time for the both of them to understand his terrible calligraphy.

And so, one bright day, the two Templars made their way to the entrance of a cavern in the Wounded Coast. The sun was blazing hot, and the fresh sea breeze barely made a dent in the heat, but they waited for a couple of hours.

The presence of the mercenary was announced by a loud voice, coming from somewhere out of sight: “It’s the blasted Knight-Captain!”

Then there was a snort, and a more masculine voice replied to the comment.

“If he tries anything, I’ll gladly answer my question on how fast does a Templar fall from the edge of a precipice to the sea.”

“Won’t he get hurt?” said a feminine, soft voice.

“It’s the point of the experiment, Daisy. I wouldn’t really try that, though. Killing the Knight-Captain might put you in a lot of trouble, Hawke.”

Far up the road – if you would call a ratway in between rocks that – a strange group showed up. A dwarf carrying a crossbow, a Dalish elf with big green eyes and armor that was a combination of chain mail, leather and deep green cloth, and two men. One was younger and leaner, carrying, however, a big two-handed sword, and the older one sported a grin and a full beard. The robes did nothing to hide the muscles underneath the layers of fabric.

“Ser Thrask, I sure do hope you don’t plan to ambush me with just a couple of Templars.” said the older male. “Merill here looks innocent but is deadly with a staff.”

“Hawke, I wouldn’t plan to do such a thing.” Thrask said. “Cullen is the Knight-Captain but he is trustworthy.”

“Hawke.” Cullen greeted him and offered his hand to a handshake. Hawke gladly shook his hand, and introduced the other companions:

“These are Merill, my brother Carver and Varric, my trusty dwarf.”

Cullen shook hands with the three of them.

“I’m Knight-Captain Cullen, as you are well aware. Thrask and I are in a bit of situation at the moment, we were hoping you’d help us.”

“There is a group of apostates hiding in that cave. I called you here to convince them to peacefully surrender before any other Templars show up. I doubt they’ll grant those mages any mercy.”

“Consider it done.” said Hawke, still side-eyeing Cullen with a degree of suspicion. “Unless you are planning to call Templars while I am in that cave and with nowhere to run. You know what, I’m going there with Varric. Carver and Merill will stay here. Just in case.”

Thrask nodded: “That is understandable. We will be waiting for your return.”

Hawke and Varric left, leaving Carver and Merill behind. Carver had beads of sweat forming in his forehead and couldn’t fix his eyes anywhere.

“Isn’t it hot in that armor?” Merill asked to the Templars, gaining a smile from Thrask, while Carver tried to reprimand her with a glare.

“Somewhat. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“I suppose you can’t wear light chainmail. I wore more furs back when my clan was in Ferelden, but then we came to the Free Marches and I had to ditch the furs. It’s a lot warmer in here, isn’t it? Have any of you been to Ferelden?”

“You are babbling, Merill…” Carver said through his teeth.

Merill’s babbles, however, made the passage of time bearable. Cullen spoke to her about Ferelden, and Thrask got her talking about her clan and the life as a Dalish elf, a free mage.

And then a young man surfaced from the cavern, saying: “They are using blood magic and attacking your friend Hawke. He went in there with just the dwarf, but I don’t think he’ll make it.”

Cullen and Thrask exchanged tense looks.

“We have to help them, ser Thrask. I have no intention of killing anyone innocent, but the blood mages are a threat.”

“Sure, Knight-Captain.”

“I hope you are ready to use a few spells.” Cullen said to the young man, a mage if the robes and the cowl were any hint, and took the lead down the cavern.


	19. Pen Pals

Death left behind more than a trail of blood and corpses; the air was heavy and hard to breathe as Cullen lead the way down the cave, following the signs of battle and hoping to find Hawke and his friend Varric still alive. It was dead quiet for a while, but soon enough loud cries of spells cut through the atmosphere and Cullen’s muscles tensed even more, ready to do whatever it took.

“How many of them are there?” he asked to the mage who called for aid.

“Close to thirty. Maybe more.”

“That’s… Great. We’ll be outnumbered anyhow.” Carver pointed out the obvious, and as if he couldn’t stop, he added: “By mages. Blood mages. I’m nearly grateful you are here, Knight-Captain.”

Thrask tightened his grip on his sword as he followed Cullen’s steps down a set of wooden stairs. Rotting and fresh corpses alike coated the floor along the way. None of them were Hawke’s or Varric’s corpses, not yet.

“The skills are what matters.” Thrask said.

The louder the sounds echoing in the stone walls, the quicker Cullen walked, and he was running by the time they crossed the door leading to a wooden platform overseeing a big, empty space where Hawke and Varric were cornered by fifteen or so mages, only one of them using his blood to fuel his spells.

“It was about time!” Hawke shouted as he swung his staff around, sending ice picks in every direction, keeping the enraged mages at bay while Varric tried to shoot down a few of them with poisoned arrows.

Thrask was right; the skills mattered the most. Cullen was surprised to find out Merill was exceedingly powerful, much like Hawke, though the both of them had a different set of magical skills. Carver’s ability with a sword was also above average for someone who clearly had no formal training.

Cullen focused his attention on the blood mage, and Thrask followed suit. No amount of blood could replenish the mana they sapped out of the mage while getting closer, deflecting oncoming spells with their shields, and once Cullen got close enough, he did not hesitate to dig his sword on the mage’s ribs. Physically weak by the blood loss, he quickly fell and passed away.

The battle died down once he was on the floor, bleeding out, but Cullen was too transfixed – remembering Connor, remembering the thieves by Lothering’s entrance – to notice it. Thrask, however, got in charge of the situation.

“Those who wish to live, drop your staves now!” he said. “I’ve gone out of my way to pay a mercenary to come here and talk your group out of this before Meredith found out and killed all of you in cold blood, and this is what I get! Blood magic and unjustified assault!”

Cullen managed to snap out of his memories and turn on his heels to see Thrask branding his sword against the mages left. A woman with a tattoo by her left eye stepped forward.

“Why should I believe you, Templar?”

“He’s telling the truth.” Hawke chimed in. “He paid me well for this. Thrask is a good man.”

“Then you must let us go.”

“You were using blood magic!” Carver protested and looked to Thrask: “Please tell me you are not going to let them go.”

The woman took another step forward: “Not all of us used blood magic. I’ve told Decimus, it doesn’t matter if you are running for your life, if you use blood magic, it’s all everyone sees! He was the one who leaded us through difficulties. He gave us our only chance at having some freedom.”

Cullen heard it all, trying to figure out what to do. Desperate people always fell prey to less than commendable leaders… Meredith would not grant a whole group of apostates who escaped in an organized fashion any mercy. Perhaps if one or two wished to go to the Circle, she would not see them as a threat and accept them without much forethought, but a whole group? She’d kill them for being organized.

Organized mages were always dangerous threats.

“Listen…” Cullen said at least, and everyone turned to him. “You might not know but I am Knight-Captain. I’ll offer you a chance. I’ll let your group escape, but you need to go far away from here and scatter, and if I ever hear from someone being hurt because of the lot of you, I’ll hunt you down myself and get rid of each one personally. You have my word. Those who wish to stay and go to the Circle, I’ll see that the Knight-Commander is merciful.”

“Why would you do this?”

“I don’t think you want me thinking too much about it. I have plenty of reasons not to show you any mercy. You better take whatever you can get. Let’s leave. Now!”

Thrask was in front of the group in their way back, and Cullen followed the group by last, keeping an eye out for any mage trying to do anything out of line. They were still in a larger number.

“Knight-Captain Cullen, I’ve heard plenty about you.” said Varric.

“Such as?”

“You’ve killed Arl Eamon’s kid, and followed the Hero of Ferelden around for some time. She is a mage, a rather attractive one if the tales are anywhere close to the truth. People refer to you as Meredith’s lap dog and yet…”

“What are you trying to imply here?” Cullen replied in a hiss. He didn’t want people poking at his past.

“All I’m saying is that I’m surprised by your actions today. Did you know Hawke over there is her second cousin? I’m starting to think Thedas has shrunk in size.”

Thinking about it, Solona and Hawke were very alike. The black hair was strikingly similar, and Solona also had a tall and strong build; while at the Circle, she was skinny but during her travelling time as a Warden, she easily developed lean muscles, Cullen realized, and her eye color was the same as Hawke’s.

He could no longer be unaware of the similarities between Hawke and Solona, and hoped not to see the mercenary again…

However, an unexpected turn quickly called Cullen’s attention to the task at hand. As soon as the group left the cavern, Templar Archers appeared, pointing arrows from the top of the surrounding rocks. Some of them were Cullen’s recruits.

“I can see why Meredith picked you after all, Knight-Captain.” said Ser Karras, coming down the way towards the entrance of the cave, followed by a small force of Templars. “But the Knight-Commander ordered the mages to be eliminated, not taken to the Circle. You’d know that if you had let her know of this cave before taking any action. It’s no wonder Ser Thrask is involved in this.”

Cullen swallowed dry. There was no way out of it, was there? He could hand the mages over, but not only he wouldn’t live with himself; at least one of them would tell Meredith of Cullen’s previous promise. She had not shared with him her knowledge about the cave or the group of apostates, so questioning about how he knew and why he went there on Ser Thrask’s company would be in order.

But Karras had Cullen’s recruits, young men and women he was in touch with daily. A few recruits wore scowls and disappointed looks, others seemed troubled. Eliminating Ser Karras wasn’t the hard part of the obvious way out…

“The Order has been treating mages unfairly.” he said to Karras, though hoping his recruits would listen and cooperate. “And I wish to make things better, so does Ser Thrask. Either the Knight-Commander approves of it or not.”

Cullen braced himself for the upcoming attack, holding his shield a bit more firmly. He certainly wouldn’t initiate any attacks, not against his own recruits.

As soon as Karras snapped his fingers, however, an arrow came flying in Cullen’s direction. It was deflected by a magical shield placed by Hawke, who started firing spells against the Hunters above them.

Karras died before he could even draw his sword: Merill and a couple of other mages hit him with lightning bolts, fireballs and an assortment of spells.

Still, Cullen had to protect himself from the recruits who attacked him anyway. Their eyes were full of blind rage, and although Cullen didn’t kill a single one with his own hands, the mages did the dirty work.

Several minutes later, he was surrounded by burned, frozen or bloody corpses of the young warriors he picked by hand and trained with utmost dedication.

Cullen ran away from the scene, gasping for air. His recruits’ disfigured faces and bodies was all he could see. It would haunt his dreams for years to come.

OoOoO

Cullen tried to hide his shaking hands underneath the desk.

“I think it’s enough for today, lady Cassandra. May we continue tomorrow?”

“Of course, Knight-Commander.”

“Speak to Thrask. We will see that you are well received here for as long as you desire.”

The Seeker, perhaps noticing how shaken Cullen was, left without further commentary. It took him a few minutes to stop shaking, though his knees still trembled when he dragged himself out of his office.

“Cullen, I was looking for you everywhere!” Carver, jogging, caught up to his Knight-Commander and slowed his pace. “I don’t think I’ll ever be used to running in this armor. Couldn’t we get rid of these skirts?”

The younger Hawke was a dear friend: however biting his tongue could be at times, he didn’t fail to humor Cullen. And the Maker knew how badly Cullen needed humor.

“You could stop wearing them if you like. It isn’t as if though anyone here cares about tradition.”

“I just might. But this is not why I was looking for you. Came to deliver another letter. From… Her.”

Cullen tried to keep his fingers firm as he held the small scroll, made out of rough parchment. He could recall from memory their particular smell of herbs, old books and leather.

“Thank you.”

Carver kept following him: “You can tell me, you know?”

“Tell you what?”

“It’s been over two years now, every single week. You haven’t really been talking about education of young mages during all this time, have you?”

“Not everyone has your particular taste for Firsts, Carver. When is Merrill coming to visit?”

“Next month.” He replied, and added quickly: “But don’t try to change the subject. What is going on? Her clan has been sitting right outside Kirkwall since you became Knight-Commander. There is no way you never sneaked out to see her.”

Cullen cleared his throat. That much was true: Cullen granted them safety and the Lavellan clan settled where Merrill’s clan originally was. He could go over there anytime, but Ellana didn’t express any interest in talking face to face.

Neither did she talk much about herself, though her tone became friendlier as Cullen expressed interest in the Dalish culture as a whole and kept the conversation going, after exhausting her advice and knowledge about preparing young mages to live in freedom.

It took about six months for Ellana to start signing her letters with a warm “Your friend, Ellana” in her delicate hand.

But Cullen knew better than to hold too tightly to this person he did not know: he still remembered falling head over heels for Solona, who, outside the Circle, was someone else entirely. Plus, Ellana was a First. It meant she had to uphold the Dalish culture’s ideals, which meant marrying another Dalish. If she hadn’t already.

Merrill had left her clan. Ellana was quite fond of hers.

“Ellana is not Merrill.” Cullen said simply. “And I don’t sneak out anywhere at night. I need all the sleep I can get.”

Carver snorted, and said “That’s what you tell yourself.” before turning on his heels and leaving.

Yes, maybe it was what he told himself. By all intents and purposes, Cullen still belonged to the Order but it had been a long time since he followed any of the Chantry’s rules. Why would he need permission to fall in love and maybe even marry?

However troubled his relationship with Solona had been, it made him realize having a family and someone to be in love with was one of his deepest desires. It all seemed so far-fetched… His work was all he had.

Once back to his room, he sat on the edge of the bed and unrolled the scroll.

_Cullen,_

_This one’s going to be short, for we might have a chance to talk in person next week or so._ _A… Complicated situation has arisen, and I’m going to visit Kirkwall for a few days._ _Since I’ll already be there, I’d like to see for myself the results of all the paper and ink I wasted on you. If you want me to._

_Your Friend,_

_Ellana_

_P.S.: I think you’ve mentioned being from Ferelden once, I’m trying my damnedest to find the letter where you said that. If my memory is right, it might come in handy…_

Cullen calmly rolled the scroll, his heart drumming against his ribs. Not in a bad way, like usual.  

The Seeker was right about him: he truly was a romantic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cullen: notgoingtofallinlovenotgoingtofallinlovenotgoingtofallinlove  
> Worst possible option in whole Thedas: *breathes*  
> Cullen: fuck
> 
> Also yes, I'm using the same name as the other Dalish mage from my other fic, Inquisitor's First, but they are very different characters. Actually the Ellana from the other fic was the first draft of the Ellana from this fic but I thought it was going to be weird and I changed it up.


	20. The Hanged Man

“Knight-Commander, you don’t need to continue this today if you don’t want to.” The Seeker said after sitting in the same chair she occupied the day before. “I can wait a couple of days. I can see this is painful for you to talk about.”

“In two days, it wouldn’t be any less painful so I don’t see why I should delay it further. The tale is almost over, anyhow. I’m afraid I don’t know much of Hawke, except the little I talked to him and what Anders told me. After that day, plenty changed, and I wasn’t around Anders or Hawke much.”

“What happened?”

“I didn’t need Anders to give information to the movement of apostates in Kirkwall any longer. After I calmed down, I told the mages I saved that day about the group, and that they probably hid somewhere in the Wounded Coast. One of them, Alain, came with me and Thrask to the Circle. A handful of those mages who didn’t come found the underground movement and later got in touch with me through Alain. I didn’t leave the Gallows frequently, but Thrask did, or let Alain sneak out, so we had a way of contacting them. I asked those mages not to tell my identity to the rest, but the secret didn’t last forever.”

The Seeker nodded, urging Cullen to go on:

“I still kept tabs on Anders, though. It was him who didn’t open up to me after meeting Hawke. Maybe I’m not an apostate…” he said, somewhat bitterly. “But that didn’t mean I couldn’t help. I could have… Done something to prevent his breakdown.”

“I was under impression Anders already knew Hawke.”

“As far as I know, they first met in Kirkwall. It was sometime after the massacre.”

OoOoO

“I’ve heard of what you have done.” Anders said as soon as Cullen stepped inside. He had his back turned to the door, scrambling around in his belongings. “You did the right thing.”

“Then why do I have to drink myself to sleep?”

“I could give you something to fix that, I guess. Though you shouldn’t feel sorry for those recruits. They died because they attacked. They could have helped you instead.”

Cullen sighed and rested his back against the wall. Perhaps Anders was right, but that wouldn’t change the fact Cullen did feel sorry for his recruits, and had his hands stained with their blood, all of that in the name of mages who previously followed a blood mage. Anders wouldn’t understand it, so there was no use discussing.

“What are you looking for?”

“Some maps for the Deep Roads. A man came here looking for them for an expedition, and I needed a favor, so I figured we could make a deal.”

“Is it anything I could help with?”

“No. You didn’t do it the first time, you won’t do it now. I want to kill Karl. He’d rather be dead than be Tranquil, and I’ll give him that. We’ve agreed to meet up tomorrow night at the Chantry, and I know it’s a trap, but I’ll have my own back up for this.”

“You are right. I wouldn’t do that. Perhaps I’ve helped you with Hallie, but that was because I knew the mages in the Circle would not be punished for it. You do know Meredith is only going to get angrier, I hope.”

“I won’t be afraid of doing things I think are right because Meredith might get angry.” Anders retorted, searching through his wooden crates with more violence. “You don’t, either. You have done worse.”

Cullen crossed his arms in front of his chest and slouched. His little scheme by the Wounded Coast ended up in a new policy of runaways being slaughtered on sight, even in a first time offense. Most Templars did it anyway, but it wasn’t formal procedure before, and some runaways returned with life to the Gallows, not that many who escaped ever got caught.

And the Knight-Captain had to make sure his recruits knew of the change.

The only silver lining of the situation was that the apostates of Kirkwall now had a safe and direct link to information on the Templars’ movements. Perhaps runaways could be killed on sight, but Cullen had the power to make sure no runaway was caught by Templars again.

Anders would accomplish nothing of the sorts by killing Karl, but if it was something he must do…

“Who is your back up?”

“It’s Hawke. You already know him. He’s quite… Something, isn’t he?” Anders said, his voice down to a soft purr.

Cullen raised an eyebrow and stood up straight.

“Well, I came by to see how you were doing, but I see you are doing well. I’ll visit later.”

He left Anders’ clinic feeling rather jealous. Anders was clearly invested in Hawke already… Cullen missed having someone to be invested on.

Since he came back to the Gallows early that night, he arrived just in the time to see Thrask leaving discreetly.

“You don’t seem well, Knight-Captain.” Thrask commented upon seeing Cullen.

“How can I be?”

“Look, I’m going to the Hanged Man and get myself drunk with Varric. Maybe you should come too.”

Cullen shrugged and said yes with a nod. It wouldn’t hurt any more than what he was already hurting.

The Hanged Man really was as dirty and full of criminals as the rumors told, though. But Thrask soon sat beside Varric on a table and whiskey was served. With alcohol running through his veins, Cullen stopped caring about the ambient or the quality of his beverage.

After several minutes of mindless banter, Varric asked: “Does Cullen know? Of Olivia?”

Thrask swallowed the rest of his drink in a single sip.

“No, but I suppose it won’t do any harm. Yes, I did have a child with a prostitute. I loved her, though, I just couldn’t marry her. Olivia was the name of my daughter. I took care of her the best I could, but Olivia was a mage.”

Cullen listened in, realizing the story was going to take a dark turn by Thrask’s usage of verbs in the past. Olivia _was_ his daughter.

“Hawke ended up meeting her.” Varric continued. “She was in a bad spot and turned into an abomination. We had to… Well. Do the Maker’s work, as the Templars put it.”

Cullen wasn’t drunk enough to chime in with his own short experience in fatherhood, but offered Thrask his condolences: “I’m sorry for your loss, Thrask. The Maker will watch over her soul.”

At least Thrask had the opportunity to hold his daughter in his arms. Cullen would sometimes fantasize with maybe a tall little girl with black curls, or a boy with blond hair and freckles covering his olive skin.

They remained in silence for some time, but the silence was broken by a new arrival.

“Varric, won’t you introduce me to your new friend?” said a woman in a sultry voice while sitting down beside Cullen.

Varric laughed.

“Isabela, Cullen, Cullen, Isabela. I don’t know since when you require proper introductions, but…”

Perhaps Cullen’s vision was starting to get blurred; even through the blur he saw her attractive features and full bosom, almost indecently exposed. That alone wasn’t enough to stir him, though: he had been around Morrigan for some time, and she didn’t quite grasp how to fully cover her own chest, either, though her breasts were way less impressive than Isabela’s.

“Isabela, this is the Knight-Captain.” Thrask added.

“I think I have mentioned I love men in uniform before, ser Thrask. And if there’s more than one…”

“Well, don’t count me in.”

The conversation changed to safer topics, and Cullen kept drinking his sorrows away. Somewhere along that time, Isabela’s hand ended up on his knee and worked its way up to his thigh and he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind when Thrask left to the Gallows, and Varric retreated to his room, either.

“I’m going to be honest with you.” Isabela said. “I’d like to have you in my bed tonight. How does that sound?”

Her fingers caressing his inner thigh surely were a convincing enough argument for Cullen, at that time. He let himself be led to one of the rooms, and willingly lay down on the bed, Isabela on top of him, running her hands up and down his torso and nibbling his ears.

“Tell me what you like.” she asked. “Do you want me to use my mouth?”

Cullen frowned at the ceiling, trying to remember what the hell he liked to do with women. Well, certainly not being on the bottom, so he propped his body up and flipped it over. Isabela was underneath him, then, with a delighted smirk.

“Better.” he said, his voice slurry. “Would you please take those blighted earrings off?”

As Alistair would put it, he worked out a few issues that night, but left feeling as empty as before. Not a thousand nights with gorgeous women would erase his past or remove the blood stains on his hands; nor would it tend to his deepest wishes of having someone to love.

Maybe in another life…

OoOoO

“And why do I need to know of your encounters?” the Seeker said after grunting in disgust.

Cullen cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I was just… Thinking about it the other day. How I met Hawke’s companions.”

He was thinking about that night, yes, but maybe not for reasons he’d be willing to admit. With Ellana’s upcoming visit, Cullen caught himself thinking about how he had yet to meet a woman he could marry and start a family with. Perhaps Isabela didn’t leave him devastated, as they had met the night of their first time together and there were no feelings involved, but Solona certainly left a deep scar.

Yet he missed being in love, how he had been with Solona.

Cullen missed it so much, in fact, that the prospect of meeting a woman he never saw before and knew nearly nothing about made his heart race in excitement. How did Ellana look like? How did she sound like?  

It wouldn’t be unreasonable to feel this way, would it? They have been friends for a long while and either she were present in the Gallows or not, she did help in an issue that ate away Cullen’s nights.

“Let’s… Not derail, Knight-Commander. I need to know about Hawke.”

“Well, Isabela did make me tag along in the last time I’ve been with Hawke before the expedition to the Deep Roads. My recruits were disappearing, and Meredith told me to find out why. Little did she know I would end up using the situation to find more support within the Order’s ranks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Cassandra.


	21. Blooming Love

“They think you are the one behind it.” Cullen observed casually while Meredith paced back and forth in front of the window behind her desk.

In jovial amusement, she snorted and rolled her eyes. Cullen was becoming quite good at being a double agent. With direct communication to a great number of apostates in Kirkwall, he could prevent most damage he was causing. Meredith was far from being open and honest to him, though at least his apparent dedication – now that Cullen could act his part without any guilt – made her loosen up.

“That’s preposterous. Why would I vanish with my own recruits?”

“You should let me tell them that.”

She stopped and turned to him, hands clasped at her back.

“No. If anyone wants to desert in face of clearly baseless rumor, I say let them. Furthermore, confessing I am not behind these disappearances might not be… Wise. I’m not about to admit the situation deteriorated to the point Templar recruits can vanish without explanation and I don’t seem to be able to find the culprit.”

That much was true. Put that way, it was a terrifying thought, not that Cullen had not been terrified since the first recruit went missing without explanation to not return. The Gallows were far from both Hightown and Lowtown; plenty of harm could come to Templars walking around at night. Except… No body had appeared just yet. The recruits were being kept, dead or alive, somewhere. They were not regular, petty crimes.

Cullen nodded in agreement, so Meredith went on:

“Which is why I’m putting you in charge of solving this problem. Discreetly, Knight-Captain. The recruits trust you more than they trust me, and I think you are in the best position to look for unusual behavior and quietly follow the leads until we find the answer. You’ve been here for a short time, but I know you’ve been leaving the Gallows at night, so I assume you are already familiar with Kirkwall’s ways.”

The blushing was inevitable, and Meredith shook her head as if chiding an infant. Cullen was well-aware he was younger even than some recruits – some waited until late adolescence or adulthood to join the Order, and Cullen had been a full Templar since he was 18 – and that had worked on his favor plenty of times before.

No, he had not been seeing prostitutes; sometimes he’d visit Anders, always more entwined in Hawke’s antics, or drink at the Hanged Man with Varric and spend the night with Isabela, which were also friends with Hawke. He wouldn’t want to break Meredith’s illusion that he wasn’t seeing people related to an apostate mercenary who gained more and more reputation in Kirkwall.

“I’ll take care of that as you wish, Knight-Commander.”

“You do not have the option to fail.” Meredith warned.

He wouldn’t.

Several days went by, and the situation started to get alarming by the time one of the best recruits in the bunch, Keran, went missing, and Meredith expedited a gag order to all Templars in the Gallows. This obviously fueled the rumors Meredith was killing her own, but she’d rather face that than to admit the Gallows and Templars weren’t perfectly safe.

And then, one of the recruits went missing, Wilmod, returned. No communication, not anything. He simply appeared again one morning, having his breakfast with the others as if he had not disappeared a full week with no explanation. There was something off, though: Wilmod was very adept to routine, and always sat in the same spot during meals, except this time his spot was empty while he sat elsewhere.

Cullen called Wilmod into his office before the usual morning sparring session.

“What is it, Knight-Captain?” the recruit asked, far too relaxed and casual. His walk had a swagger to it, and his chin was held high.

“Where have you been all this time? A whole week, without notifying anyone? We never had problems from you, and I’m willing to cut you some slack if you tell me where have you been and why you were gone.”

His attitude suddenly shifted, and his posture hunched forward.

“It’s… Personal.”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed slightly. From the whole spectrum of behaviors Wilmod had since returning, none of them seemed to be his usual self. It almost felt like… Well, it couldn’t be possession, could it? The signs were subtle but very clear to a keen observer, though mages were the ones getting possessed, usually. Yet, Cullen received training to spot those signs for years. He never heard of a possessed Templar, but…

“If that’s the case…” he said, shifting through maps on a drawer of his desk. “I think you should get out of Kirkwall for a while to clear your head. There is a nice spot for camping over the Wounded Coast.”

“Is that necessary?”

“It’s an _order_ , since you won’t be upfront with me. Assemble your belongings and gears and head out as soon as you are done.”

If Wilmod truly was possessed, confronting him inside the Gallows seemed counterproductive on the discretion front… The nice spot Cullen suggested definitely had a good view, all the while being far away from any known routes on the Coast; he’d make sure Wilmod would get there to have a chat.

He waited an hour before leaving and starting following Wilmod’s tracks. Midway out of the Gallows, Ruvena, another recruit, approached Cullen:

“Knight-Captain, before you reprimand me for not being on the sparring yard now, I wanted to tell I saw Wilmod leaving with camping gear. He said he’s going to the Coast to clear his head, but he has been gone for a week now. I wonder if he’ll disappear again, so that’s why I’ve been looking for you.”

“It was an order of mine, don’t worry. And I must ask you not to tell anyone about it.”

“May I ask you why?”

“No.” Cullen replied simply. “Get back to your duties. You won’t hear anything from me this time.”

Ruvena nodded and scurried away, and Cullen, not thinking much about the encounter, begun chasing after Wilmod. He caught up to the recruit near the closest exit out of Kirkwall, and kept following at a safe distance.

So far, so good. He wasn’t expecting Wilmod to obey his orders. Maybe something bad had happened and he didn’t feel like sharing. Perhaps being outside of the Gallows would help him open up.

Or so Cullen hoped. The scowl Wilmod wore on his face while he thought he wasn’t being watched was disturbing; then again Cullen was aware he did not look very welcoming on most occasions, as well as the young Knight-Captain wanted to hold own to every sliver of hope of his recruit simply being inconvenienced by a bad experience rather than possessed.

It was past midday when Wilmod finally arrived to the place Cullen designated, and a couple of more hours went by until Cullen decided he had watched enough of Wilmod setting up a camp and that it was time to get the job done.

The recruit didn’t seem all that surprised when Cullen made his presence known.

“I am sorry for intruding your privacy, Wilmod, but we do have to talk about what happened to you in the week you spent away from the Gallows? Did you disappear willingly?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” he said, his voice shaky. “Please, just punish me if you must. I don’t understand!”

Cullen stood still for a moment, unsure of what he was dealing with. It wasn’t Wilmod anymore, was it...? His steps lead Wilmod to a corner of the camp, against the wall of the cliff.

“You’ve been away from a week. Where have you been? Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about! The lives of other recruits depend on this!”

“But I don’t know, sir!”

That made Cullen saw red. Wilmod would never do such thing. He was mostly honest about his shortcomings, he would never disobey orders like this, so Cullen felt nothing while he got closer to Wilmod and grabbed him by the collar.

“Tell me. Now!”

“Mercy, sir!”

Cullen brought his knee to Wilmod’s crotch and drew his sword while the recruit scrambled on the floor in pain: “That will be hard to find.”

Wilmod rose to his feet, his whole demeanor changed to a sinister threatening one.

“This is the last time I take any orders from you!”

For a moment, Cullen thought he was in deep trouble as Wilmod – or the demon which possessed him – turned into an abomination, who summoned minor demons from the Fade. A good bunch of minor demons meant a lot of trouble for a Templar alone, however.

But Cullen was not alone. Before there was even a chance for the enemies to attack, fireballs flew overhead hitting the demons squarely on their faces, and a couple of moments later, Anders appeared by his side: “We’ve got your back.”

Didn’t take look for Wilmod and the demons to be eradicated, by not only Anders and Cullen, but by Isabela, Carver, and Hawke.

“I should thank you for showing up in a convenient time.” Cullen said to the group.

“I thought Templars could not get possessed.” observed Carver.

Anders chimed in: “It’s unusual, to say the least. Cullen, we’ve been to the Gallows and talked to a few recruits that pointed us in your direction. They said recruits are missing, and I suppose that’s what’s happening to them.”

“Heard anything useful?”

“Keran was last seen in the Blooming Rose.” Hawke said. “The recruits didn’t want to tell you because they thought you’d reprimand them for it.”

Isabela leaned her weight to a single leg and smirked.

“Boy, do they not know you.”

“I’ve never been to the Blooming Rose.” Cullen replied, and his old stammer returned: “And I’m afraid going there will be useless, as the… Young ladies there probably won’t tell me anything either.”

“Well, if anything, I volunteer to interrogate them for you.” Hawke said, though Isabela added:

“You are so coming with us. I can’t believe you have never been to the Blooming Rose. You’ll like it there. Just take off the armor and you should be fine. It isn’t like anyone knows of you other than by name. They’ll think your shyness is cute.”

“Do I really have to—“

“Yes.”

Cullen sighed and gave up: “Fine.”

As they went back to Kirkwall together, Isabela commented: “I used to work at the Pearl, in Denerim. Anders actually had a reputation over there.”

“Did he?” Hawke asked, curiously. Cullen didn’t fail to notice how he and Anders gravitated towards each other.

“He did an electricity thing. Or so I’ve heard.”

Cullen blushed crimson at the mention, because he had experienced it firsthand. Hawke elbowed Anders, in jest.

“You should show me, sometime.”

“That’s crossing the line, brother. Find a room first.”

OoOoO

“Hawke had his heart in the right place and loved Anders. I could see that.” Cullen observed, playing with a quill he had left on top of his desk. “But I’m afraid I was mistaken by trusting he’d know how to handle Anders. Part of me thinks he’ll come back to do something terrible again.”

“The stories tell me they ran away during the confusion after the Chantry’s explosion. I’m starting to think you let them.”

“You are sharp, I’ll give you that.”


End file.
